


more than half a heart

by serendipitousDescent



Series: heart [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Fluff and Angst, Healthy Relationships, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Romantic Soulmates, Soulmate-Identifying Marks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-23
Updated: 2018-02-16
Packaged: 2018-12-19 04:05:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 34,620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11889630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/serendipitousDescent/pseuds/serendipitousDescent
Summary: "You know, you could always talk to him."Shigeru shakes his head before Watari even finishes. "What would I even talk to him about?"His hand drops down to his hip. Both of them know his Mark is right there, not quite the same as it was a few months ago. It started out as an oval, once upon a time, an oval filled in with yellow that rested low on his hip. Now a long, thin triangle extends out from the oval and curls around to his hip.A lot of people meet their soulmates during the first week of high school. That's why his father has told him countless times to avoid situations where he meets a lot of people at once, just in case Shigeru causes more drama than absolutely necessary.





	1. bulb

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys enjoy! And of course, I also hope you check out conduct our hearts too, but it's not at all necessary to read that before you read this. They just belong to the same, general universe, rather than really affect each other. Also, the next chapter of that will likely be up in the next couple days. 
> 
> One thing to note is the emotional abuse tag on this fic. For anyone concerned, the emotional abuse happens between Yahaba and his father, as well as between his parents.

Mornings always go by too quickly. 

Between his alarm clock going off and having to leave, Shigeru never seems to have enough time. There should be enough time for him to shower, eat, and get ready for school if he only hits the snooze button twice. 

This morning, Shigeru hits the snooze button four times. His bento box lies forgotten on the counter when he eventually runs past the kitchen, remembering it as soon as his shoes are half-on and his backpack is zipped up. A steady stream of swear words slip from his mouth ad he kicks his shoes off again. Not having something to eat between morning practice and school, lunch, then again between school and evening practice might very well kill him before walking around the neighbourhood with still damp hair does. 

“Shigeru.” 

His father enters his line of vision and he freezes. “Yes?” 

“Being absentminded will only limit your options for the future,” his father says, looking right through him, just like he always does. 

“Of course. This won’t happen again.” 

“See to it that it doesn’t.” 

A weight forms in the pit of his stomach as Shigeru takes the bento box from his father. Not a word escapes from his mouth, not the thank you expected of him or the condemnation wanting to burst out. All he can do is offer a straight-lipped smile until he steps out of the house and lets the expression fade again.

.

“Oikawa is really a horrible person.”

Watari rolls his eyes as he swallows a mouthful of rice. “You’re just saying that because you’re tired of all this extra practice he has you doing. Once he’s graduated, all of your self confidence issues will just come rolling back.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Shigeru denies. “And that’s not why he’s a horrible person. But you have to admit, those jump serves he’s had me doing all week have been brutal.” 

“Right, of course not. Don’t worry though, I’ll get Kindaichi and Kunimi to peel your corpse off the ground when you finally drop.”

“Kunimi will hate you for that.” 

“Ah, but Kindaichi will do anything if you ask him the right way.”

“I’m taking back that comment about Oikawa. The evil one on the team is clearly you,” Shigeru says, rolling his eyes. 

“You make that sound like Matsukawa and Hanamaki don’t do that regularly.” Watari breaks with a laugh as Shigeru levels him with an unimpressed look. “Alright, not the best of role models. But you really shouldn’t be so rough on yourself. In fact, if you continue, I’ll tell Oikawa about the thing.”

The blood quickly drains from his face. “You wouldn’t.” 

“I would.” 

“But-” 

“You know I would.” 

“Watari-” 

“You know I would tell Oikawa Tooru everything about that time Yahaba Shigeru unknowingly walked in on-” 

“Fine, I’ll stop, just don’t say anything else!” Watari laughs as Shigeru turns around in his seat to check the door. The classroom is almost entirely abandoned for lunch, but that means next to nothing. Oikawa is like the devil himself when it comes to his name being mentioned. “Anyways, I wasn’t actually talking about practice. It’s his relationship with Iwaizumi.” 

“What did you expect? They’re soulmates. And Oikawa talks about Iwaizumi-senpai regardless of where he is or who he’s with,” Watari says, simply. 

“It’s worse when we’re alone.” 

“It can get worse?” 

Shigeru scrunches up his face at the memory. “Yesterday, Iwaizumi would just look in our direction and Oikawa would start asking me if his Mark had changed in the last five minutes. Then he talked about their sex life.” 

Watari groans. “Please don’t give me any details. It’s like, I don’t know what they do in their free time, but it’s weird.” 

“Like hearing your parents having sex in the other room, while you lay there, awake, pretending nothing is happening. Or being an awkward third wheel whose friends just won’t let them leave.”

“I don’t know whether to be impressed or disturbed by the amount of thought you’ve put into this.” 

“Neither do I.” 

Watari breaks out into laughter, bright and infectious enough that Shigeru has no choice but to join in. Oikawa and Iwaizumi are the most affectionate couple he knows, but they also rank first in how often they fight with each other. They aren’t real fights, really. The two of them fight like an old married couple, while Oikawa teases a bit too much and Iwaizumi pulls him into a chokehold. It’s far closer to flirting than actually fighting. 

In a way, the two of them are the team parents. Flamboyant Oikawa pretending that he doesn’t worry about the rest of them, while Iwaizumi stays a steady force by his side. Only in that equation, Shigeru is certainly the responsible child of the team, and far more responsible when the quasi-flirting turns to arguing. 

The laughter dies in the back of his throat at the sound of a door slamming from down the hall. Someone storming past the classroom follows only moments later. Shigeru watches, helpless to do anything except watch, because Kyoutani doesn’t so much as glance in his direction. 

Things are better this way. 

“You know,” Watari says, his quiet suggestion filling the otherwise silent classroom, “you could always talk to him.” 

Shigeru shakes his head before Watari even finishes. “What would I even talk to him about?” 

“That’s not really my decision, is it?” 

His hand drops down to his hip and he tears his gaze away from Watari. 

Both of them know his Mark is right there, not quite the same as it was a few months ago. It started out as an oval, once upon a time, an oval filled in with yellow that rested low on his hip. Even now, only a few details differentiate it from the Marks his friends and classmates have, not even his older sister’s. Especially not his older sister’s, because while she is well on her way to marrying her soulmate, a man his father adores, her Mark has hardly changed at all. 

The first day of being on the high school volleyball team is when Shigeru’s first changed. He doesn’t know exactly him, because he didn’t notice until after practice, as he was getting changed. The long, thin triangle extending from the oval and curling around his back didn’t disappear after long seconds of staring at it, and the other first years picked up on what was happening quickly enough. Within seconds, they were oohing and awing over how lucky he was.

Then nobody ever stepped forward to say their Mark had changed as well, and his own Mark never changed again. Which might have had something to do with his soulmate storming out of practice one day, not to return for another year and a half. 

A lot of people meet their soulmates during the first week of high school, and don’t realize who it is until later. There are so many new people that it’s nearly impossible to keep track of when and where he meets someone. His father has told him countless times to avoid those situations at all costs, just in case Shigeru causes more drama than absolutely necessary. 

All he knew was that his soulmate was probably on the volleyball team. 

Then his Mark changed a second time, right after their final match in the Spring High tournament, and Shigeru couldn’t pretend anymore. 

“Just… think about it, okay? If talking to Kyoutani is what’s going to make you happy, then you should go for it,” Watari adds, softly. 

“I’ll think about it.”

.

Sitting at the dining room table after practice is always a painful experience. His back is ramrod straight, despite the ache of the muscles in his shoulders and lower back, and he stares down at his still-empty plate. His mother is on one side of the table and his sister on the other, while their dinner sits in the middle of the table, no longer warm after half an hour of waiting.

“Are you sure he hasn’t mentioned being late?” Shigeru asks, quietly. 

His mother doesn’t look up from where her gaze is fixated on the table. “Of course not. If he had, I would have pushed dinner back.”

Shigeru carefully schools his expression into something impassive, something inoffensive. This would not be the first time his mother has lied about something like this, even on days like today, when his sister comes over. This wouldn’t be the first time she’s used cold dinners and uncomfortable silences as weapons to hold over their heads and remind them that their lives could always be worse. 

Most surprising is likely that he didn’t hear her fighting with his father late last night. Their hushed, angry whispers always carry through the otherwise silent house with the impact of a fire alarm. If it weren’t for his earphones and music, Shigeru would never be able to focus on his schoolwork, on setting up plays, on watching the recordings of matches that Oikawa has started to forward to him. 

He carefully stands up and ignores the looks his mother and sister are giving him. “I have a lot of homework due tomorrow. If he ever shows up, tell him I’m sorry for missing dinner.” 

His mother isn’t the only one in the family who can lie. 

The call of the bag of chips hidden in the bottom drawer of his desk is much stronger than the desire to sit here for a moment longer. By the time they end up eating, dinner will be disgusting anyways.

.

“Hmm, that one was better,” Oikawa says, tapping his finger against his lips. “You should still focus on putting more power behind it, but that will only come with more practice. And precision is what’s most important right now, because you’ll still have Kyouken-chan for power.”

Shigeru nods and reaches for another ball from the bin. If his serves need more power, than there’s still work to be done. If he wants to be even half the captain Oikawa is, then he needs to work and work and work. 

“Ah, ah, ah, did I say that we were continuing with serves?” 

Sweat rolls down the back of his neck as he hesitates, ball in hand. “We have another forty-five minutes of practice left, Oikawa-san.” 

“And then you’ll stay late to work on your serves, no doubt. That’s what you’ve been doing every day this past month, anyways.” Oikawa waves his hand as if to knock away the inevitable questioning. “Don’t look at me like that, Yahaba-kun, you couldn’t have been any more obvious if you tried.” 

“What are we doing now then?” 

Oikawa beams, the expression as bright as it is sadistic. “You need to work on your bond with Kyouken-chan, of course! Just another few weeks, then you’ll be both Seijou’s official setter and captain. Think about how it’ll affect Seijou’s reputation if the captain and the ace don’t even get along.” 

“This isn’t happening.” 

Something as little as that isn’t about to put off Oikawa. “Kyouken-chan, come!” 

Kyoutani doesn’t waver as he drives home a spike, the new reserve setter nearly trembling with fear at the following smack that echoes throughout the gym. At the very least, Shigeru expected a scowl. 

Instead, Kyoutani looks over at them the moment his feet are planted firmly back on the ground. His gaze focuses in on Shigeru without hesitation, Oikawa entirely cut out of equation entirely. Had this happened before Spring High, Shigeru might be surprised, but lately Kyoutani keeps either paying careful attention to him or ignoring him out right. Today seems to be the former. 

The intense attention lasts for all of a couple seconds. With amazing predictability, Kyoutani turns back around and goes for a new ball. For all the attention he’s been paying to Shigeru lately, his wariness of Oikawa certainly has not decreased. The reserve setter glances between Oikawa and Kyoutani with wide eyes, unmoving. That much is a sign of progress for Kyoutani too, because before almost anyone from the team would have taken that opportunity to run away. 

“We need to work together,” Shigeru says, in lieu of letting Oikawa continue to taunt him. 

Kyoutani stops, just barely preventing himself from looking back at Shigeru. “Right now?” 

“Yeah, now.”

Something in him wavers at Kyoutani’s hesitation, a question clear in the way he ducks his head down and frowns. 

Then Kyoutani nods over at the reserve setter and that wavering something settles into a warm relief. Watari might even say there was pride mixed in with that, if Shigeru described the feeling to him. Maybe, in respect of how far Kyoutani has come with the rest of the team, it is an odd sort of pride. A pride that is entirely separate from Shigeru’s sudden awareness of the Mark imprinted onto his hip. 

The only thing more difficult to forget about in this moment is Oikawa smirking beside him, like this is some sort of personal achievement for him. 

“The usual?” Kyoutani asks. 

Shigeru stares.

Between the two of them, there is no such thing as the usual. No usual in how they interact with each other or practice together for the simple reason that they’ve never had to have a usual. On a good day, neither of them say a word to the other. On a bad day, Shigeru always seems to end up with his fists clenched in Kyoutani’s collar, and fury and frustration coursing through his veins. 

Oikawa is quick to jump onto the comment, his grin growing. “Well, if the two of you don’t need my freely given assistance, then I’ll be off.” 

“No, Oikawa-san-” 

“My guidance isn’t needed on everything, Yahaba-kun! In fact, I think it’s better if you figure this one out all by yourself, because I won’t be around to mediate next time.”

Shigeru’s jaw goes slack as Oikawa all but skips in the other direction, leaving him alone with Kyoutani. “Why is he such a meddling bastard?” 

“What?” 

“Oikawa is a meddling bastard,” Shigeru repeats. “At least when it comes to other people’s relationships.” 

“I know that.” Kyoutani’s shoulders hunch when Shigeru looks over at him, but he doesn’t stop there. “I just didn’t expect that you’d think so too.” 

He snorts. “Him being an amazing setter and a great captain has nothing to do with his personality. Training with him has stripped all of those delusions away.” 

“Took you long enough.” 

“Trust me, I’ve been telling myself the same thing for weeks now.” Shigeru attempts a smile, but his words sound hesitant instead of casual. 

The conversation awkwardly falls away in its entirety within moments, and the two of them stand there, neither one attempting to start practicing together. Like it or not, they have new territory to navigate between them. Just getting this far should be a victory for them. 

Only there shouldn’t be any more victories like this, Shigeru remembers. His faint smile freezes into place and turns frigid as the reality pours over him like a bucket of ice water. Attempting to get along with Kyoutani now won’t lend him any favours in the future. Maybe they’ll be able to play better volleyball together, but he still has to consider his life after high school. 

His sister’s soulmate is nothing like Kyoutani. Shigeru hadn’t believed that people like his sister’s soulmate even existed before he met the tall, proud businessman. All it had taken was a couple minutes, and his father had been thoroughly charmed by the polite smile and firm handshake. Their conversation had sounded like a soundtrack stuck on repeat, nothing to differentiate it from one moment to the next. The following feeling of satisfaction is what really captured his father’s approval. 

Kyoutani’s voice is more like the sun itself. The louder it gets, the more it stings, but somehow it always manages to captivate him. His hands clench into fists. There are a million more parallels Shigeru could make between Kyoutani and the sun, starting with both being unaffected by him or anyone else and ending with how unforgiving they are. The exact sort of person his father would hate, given that Kyoutani doesn’t seem interested in business. 

Asking Kyoutani to be someone he’s not would be too difficult, in the end. Even if the two of them were more than sometimes acquaintances and more often enemies. 

“Are we doing this or not?” Kyoutani asks, his mouth in a tense, straight line. 

“Right,” Shigeru says, “Of course.” 

He takes the ball from Kyoutani and waits for him to get into position, forcing everything else out of his awareness. Volleyball is what keeps him centred. Volleyball is meant to be what wipes away everything else in his life.

.

“You will meet your soulmate one day.”

Shigeru pauses, his chopsticks in hand. “Yes, of course.”

“I’m certain you know that they’ll be the only person in the world who can balance your shortcomings with their strengths,” his father continues. “Because of that, I suspect your soulmate will bring our family a lot of advantages.” 

His father doesn’t explain what he means, but neither does he have to. Shigeru unconsciously tightens his grip on his chopsticks, not daring to eat another bite just yet. Eating in the middle of a conversation will just become another one of his shortcomings, one of the things his father thinks Kyoutani will make up for. With a bit of luck, his father will never find out what Kyoutani would actually do in response to that. 

Shigeru isn’t really certain himself. He can make guesses, maybe even guesses that are more accurate than not, but he doesn’t know. He glances over at his mother and pushes down the urge to frown when he sees her staring down at her empty plate. 

Today is just another day where she says nothing then.

“Nothing to say?” his father finally asks. 

Shigeru shakes his head. 

The following sigh is almost worse than the insulting lecture leading up to it, pointed but exasperated as if they haven’t had this same conversation dozens of times. “You have to think about these things, Shigeru. The world won’t deliver itself to your fingertips.” 

“I know,” he says, his voice hardly louder than a whisper. 

“Make sure that you do.” His father takes a bite of his dinner, almost entirely oblivious to being the only one in the room eating. He always spends an excessive amount of time chewing and right now is no different, his strong jaw moving in slow, lazy circles until he swallows. “You’ve been spending a lot of time with the volleyball team. The discipline is good for you, but you do need to focus on other things as well.” 

His jaw is starting to hurt with how hard he’s clenching it, holding back the words that want to burst out. Shigeru didn’t have this problem before Kyoutani came strolling into his life. Separating his emotions from his words back then had been simple. 

“That’s why you’re visiting me at work one day after school next week.” 

Shigeru stops and his chest starts to burn with the need to breathe. 

His father continues. “With any hope, it will show you how to transfer the discipline you’ve learned from your sports to other-” 

“But-” 

“You want to succeed in life, don’t you? One day away from the team won’t kill you, Shigeru.” 

It won’t kill him, but it could affect everything their team has been working towards. It could affect his time as captain that starts in just a few, short weeks. The sentiment doesn’t allow itself to be swallowed back, so Shigeru nods instead of speaking. Nothing good will await him if he gives voice the what he wants to say. 

When Shigeru was younger, he used to think that if he explained enough, if he phrased something in a certain way, his father wouldn’t say things like that. There isn’t one specific thing that made him change his mind, nothing he can point to and say that was where things changed. They simply changed. 

That is why Shigeru agrees without protest and the rest of dinner goes by without a word. He abandons his chopsticks along the edge of his untouched bowl and stares at them. Only when his father gets up from the table can he manage to look up again. 

His mother is staring at him. 

Shigeru hesitates at the way the wrinkles in the corners of her mouth have smoothed away, making her look nearly a decade younger than usual. The expression certainly isn’t a smile, but it isn’t quite anything else either. They hold eye contact for a long moment, his mother not bothering to tear her gaze away. That much is enough to catch him off guard and make him rethink everything about the last hour. 

Deep coughing echoes through the house, breaking the moment as his mother automatically turns towards the door. 

“Don’t worry about the mess,” she says, distracted. There’s no following shout from the living room though, and so she pushes herself up. “I’ll clean up the dishes tonight.” 

All but one of the dishes are still covered in food. Shigeru managed a few bites before his father started to talk. He hesitates once more now because he’s never seen her eat. He’s never questioned when she eats, but now he wants to. 

The sound of the television turning on comes as a welcome distraction and he flees from the room, only slowing to tiptoe down the hall. His bedroom door closes behind him with only the faintest click, the feeling of finally being alone far more welcome than he will ever admit. 

Shigeru doesn’t cry or bury his face in his pillow, though a part of him wants to. Too dramatic, too much like seeking attention, is what repeats over and over in his head as he drops down onto his bed and sits there, waiting for the ache in his chest to ease. Focusing on inhaling and exhaling is a struggle, because memories of dinner interrupt every few minutes, his fingers clenching in his bed covers. A long time goes by before his breathing evens out, and he slowly opens his eyes again. 

Nothing feels calm, not like it does after practice or spending the night at a friend’s. Too many things are just brewing on the horizon. Shigeru glances over at his alarm clock and his stomach sours. There isn’t enough time to finish his homework and go to practice in the morning. Deciding on which to do is easier than it should be, and he falls back into bed.

If Shigeru has to miss practice next week, then he certainly isn’t going to skip out this week. 

In the quiet privacy of his own room, his fingers skim the edge of his shirt, more automatic reaction than anything else. There isn’t a difference in texture between the skin blossoming with colour from his Mark and the skin without his Mark, but he can pretend there is. He can pretend there’s comfort in the way his fingers trace the unchanging shape on his hip.

.

Shigeru stares down at Oikawa’s pouting face, oddly unaffected by the betrayed, wide-eyed expression. A few months ago, back when Shigeru only practised with Oikawa once a week or so, he would be fumbling his way through some sort of rushed explanation by now.

“You should have just told me,” Iwaizumi says from his desk chair. “Now you’re going to have to put up with this idiot’s moping all day.” 

“Sorry, Iwaizumi-senpai.” 

The corners of Iwaizumi’s mouth lift, ever so slightly. “Don’t apologize to me. You’re going to face the brunt of his bullshit.”

“Iwa-chan!” 

Oikawa pushes himself up off of the seat he made of Iwaizumi’s desk, his mouth agape as he redirects the look towards Iwaizumi. The silent staring contest between them drags on, neither of them moving to break it. 

If Hanamaki and Matsukawa were here, they would be making bad jokes. Just like the time they plastered bad selfies of Oikawa all over Iwaizumi’s desk and cubby. Shigeru still doesn’t quite understand how they managed to shift the blame over to Kindaichi, not when the first years had been away on a class trip all day. Iwaizumi’s face softens abruptly, and Shigeru swallows back the crack about Oikawa pining. The joke has officially lost its humour. 

The only reason he isn’t in on their betting pool is because he’s going to lose all his money if he bets on, “Oikawa is too much of a self-sacrificing idiot to make the first move.” Hanamaki and Matsukawa would annoy Iwaizumi into doing something about it first, and Shigeru would be broke. 

“Cut it out, Crappykawa,” Iwaizumi mutters, rolling his eyes. 

“But-” 

“But Yahaba is right there, waiting for you to acknowledge him.” Iwaizumi purses his lips and his eyes narrow dangerously. “And I don’t mean that keeping that stupid look on your face.” 

Oikawa sighs, then plasters on a charming smile as he turns back towards Shigeru. “You’ve clearly taken a blow to the head, Yahaba-kun, because you aren’t actually missing practice tomorrow.” 

“Is this how you try to pick up girls?” Shigeru asks, blandly, unable to resist a smirk when Oikawa’s face falls. “I wonder how they’ve been falling at your feet for so long.” 

“Yahaba, I didn’t think you were this cruel!” 

He hesitates, then shrugs. “There’s only a couple more weeks before I’m captain, which means there isn’t much point in pretending to be nice anymore.” 

“If anything, he’s adding to a long tradition of Seijou volleyball captains,” Iwaizumi adds. 

The bell rings before Oikawa stops flailing at them, but his expression turns pointed as Shigeru follows him out of Iwaizumi’s classroom. 

Both of them have to go in opposite directions for class, but Shigeru knows without a doubt that their conversation isn’t finished yet. Oikawa can look at most people and flip through them like a book, Shigeru included, and he’s not about to pass up the opportunity to get more details out of someone. Besides, Shigeru recognizes that look. It’s the same look Oikawa gets when he can smell blood in the air and is only lying in wait for the chance to tear his opponent apart. 

Sometimes, it’s concerning just how deeply ingrained the barrier between friend and enemy is for Oikawa. 

Watari gives him an odd look when they pass each other in the hall, and Shigeru automatically grimaces back. He can feel his phone vibrating in his pocket as he enters his own classroom slumps down onto his chair. The whole team likely already knows he’s skipping practice tomorrow. It would be typical of Oikawa to message the team group chat something like that. His phone stays firmly in his pocket though, and class starts. 

From the moment the teacher steps in front of the class, Shigeru can’t stop himself from looking at the clock every thirty seconds, half-expecting more time to have gone by each time he does. The urge is always there, but today it’s intensified by a hundred. Losing himself in the familiar motions of setting, in knowing that Kyoutani will spike each ball Shigeru sends his way, means not thinking about tomorrow for a couple hours. 

More than enough of his time has already been spent thinking about tomorrow. 

As soon as the bell rings, he’s up and out of his seat, his stuff preemptively shoved into his bag for the day. He normally waits in front of Watari’s classroom for him to leave, so the two of them can walk to the gym together, but that is for another day. 

Only when Shigeru gets to the gym, Kyoutani is already setting things up, haphazard and scowling as he struggles with one side of the net. His mouth falls open when he sees Shigeru standing in the doorway, the anger washing away before it sets into his normal frown again. 

“I thought you weren’t showing up today,” Kyoutani says, his voice echoing through the otherwise empty gym. 

Shigeru inhales sharply, toeing the line between inside and outside. “Tomorrow.” 

“What?” 

“I’m not going to be here tomorrow,” he says quickly, his words blurring together. 

“Whatever.” Some of the tension eases from Kyoutani’s shoulders as he continues to stand there, tension that Shigeru hadn’t even noticed until just now. “Are you going to get changed or stand around like an idiot? We have shit to work on.” 

“You could at least try being polite.” 

“Fuck off already, would you?” 

The laughter building in his chest takes him by surprise, and he quickly turns before it can escape. 

His backpack is almost light as he all but runs towards the club room. Nobody else is around. Nobody else is around to add weight onto his shoulders, to remind him of anything other volleyball itself as he gets changed. Normally, they have have an hour to get ready, but Shigeru is itching to move, just the thought of eating the rest of his food repulsive. 

Kyoutani is waiting for him once he gets back to the gym. Almost everything is already set up, perfect for the two of them, but not the rest of the team. Shigeru takes a brief moment to roll out another bin full of volleyballs before starting his warm-up. 

All he has the patience for is a few laps around the gym, and he isn’t the only one. Shigeru can almost see Kyoutani itching with the need to spike a ball. 

Neither of them speak as they get started, and Shigeru tosses a ball up into the air, then sets it. Kyoutani follows up perfectly, the resounding smack on the ground making him grin. This isn’t like it normally is between them. The heavy ball of complicated emotions right in the centre of Shigeru’s chest doesn’t allow for his normal anger, for thinking about anything other than setting. It allows them to immediately fall in sync with each other, the number of missed or out-of-bounds balls between them dropping to almost nothing. 

Shigeru hardly notices the rest of the team starting to flood the room, not until balls start disappearing from the bin a lot faster than before. Nobody talks to them. Even Oikawa stays on the sidelines, watching them with barely contained interest that is far from the instant interrogation Shigeru expected. 

Not that he has the time to think too deeply about it, because every time they successfully get the ball across the net, Kyoutani turns to look at him, expectant. Tossing another spike is the only way for them to move forward, and each time it makes him feel like he’s soaring. Like they’re actually working together, like they will have a chance against schools like Shiratorizawa and Karasuno next year. Like Shigeru is just going higher and higher until everything he needs to worry about is a million miles away. 

The gym empties once more before Shigeru remembers they need to stop, before he realizes his muscles are burning. Somehow, this must be what Oikawa has been looking for. It almost feels like the synchronization between him and Iwaizumi. Now, him and Kyoutani just have to replicate this later. 

“Why aren’t you going to be here tomorrow?” 

Shigeru stops, a lump forming in the back of his throat as everything from before rushes back to him all at once. 

“I mean,” Kyoutani says, continuing on with a determined clench of his jaw, “there has to be a reason. You’re here every fucking day, and now you’re just not going to show up after this?” 

His voice drops, more of a challenge than a question. “This?” 

“Don’t play stupid, you know what I’m talking about.” 

He does, but maybe that’s the problem. 

With everything else going on, Shigeru let himself forget that it was Kyoutani he was setting to. Anger flares at the thought and he carefully locks it away with a smile. It shouldn’t be so simple for the two of them to find an easy rhythm together. He shouldn’t have let things get this far. 

“Sorry, but I don’t think I do,” he says, his tone sugary sweet. 

Kyoutani narrows his eyes, his shoulders pulled back. “Now you’re acting like Oikawa.” 

“Is there something wrong with that?” 

“Yeah.” Their gazes meet and the emotion Shigeru sees there takes his breath away. “I thought you were better than him.” 

The careful control Shigeru keeps over his temper snaps. 

It snaps and he lunges forward before he can stop himself, his hands burying themselves in the collar of Kyoutani’s shirt. Every detail of Kyoutani’s face is apparent like this, every hair that is part brown and part bleached, every eyelash and pore, even every shade of brown in his eyes. And it only serves to fan the flames growing in Shigeru’s gut. 

“Stop going on like you know what you’re talking about!” 

Kyoutani’s voice drops to something low and blunt. “You’re not him. You’re never going to be him.” 

“Shut up!” The silence echoes between them, far more grating than either of their voice, but what Shigeru has to say next has been churning around inside him for the last week now. “It doesn’t matter, I have to try. I need be like Oikawa, otherwise, I can’t be the captain that Seijou needs and then I won’t be able to tell my parents that I want to play professionally!” 

Kyoutani stares up at him, and the slight difference in their heights now feels like meters. “You don’t need to be Oikawa to do that.” 

“I do! How else can I do it? They won’t - Oikawa would charm everyone at my dad’s office tomorrow, even if he didn’t want to be there, even if he never wanted to work at an office,” Shigeru blurts out, every inch of himself shaking. “I can’t.” 

His hands drop back to his sides as he takes an abrupt step backwards and his legs give out beneath him, his strength leaving him all at once. Everything hurts, not just in the way his muscles always ache after practice. It hurts like it did last week as he sat alone in his bedroom, the world seemingly slowing to a stop. 

“Come over to my place.” 

Shigeru slowly raises his head. 

Kyoutani is kneeling in front of him, the usual lines around his mouth and eyes almost smoothed away entirely. Like this, he almost looks peaceful, rather than angry. 

“What?” he asks, quietly. 

“Thursday, after practice. Come over, and I’ll show you that you don’t need to be Oikawa.” 

“I can’t.” 

“Why not?” Kyoutani drops his gaze, but Shigeru can still see the reddened tips of his ears. “My parents want to meet you, anyways.” 

“Oh.” 

“Shut it.” 

“I didn’t say anything!” 

“Then stop making what you’re feeling so obvious!”

Shigeru does laugh then, but in his ears, it sounds far more watery than it has any right to be.


	2. sprout

Standing in his father’s building is almost more terrifying than the thought of it. Shigeru is never usually so aware of how wrinkled his school uniform is after an entire day of sitting at his desk. But the couple workers who pass him by have cleanly pressed suits, even after who knows how many hours of sitting at a desk. 

His back straightens at the distinct noise of high heels against the tile floor. The secretary stares him down, only now from close-up rather than from her desk on the other side of the foyer. Her stained lips have not moved from a deeply-set frown since he arrived. 

“I apologize, but you need to leave.” Her contempt shines through her voice, as clear as day. “This area is for clients only, and I think you are a bit young to be one of our clients here.”

Shigeru thinks of Oikawa, of the wide, charming grin Oikawa would use on her, and does just that. His stomach twists uncomfortably, but he doesn’t let the expression slip. “I’m sorry, I was just waiting for my father.”

“Then you can wait for him outside,” she says, resolutely. 

“Well, I texted him earlier, but he must have gotten busy with a client or something.” 

“If it makes you happy, I will phone up to whichever floor your father works on and ensure he comes down, but you still have to leave. What’s his name?” 

Shigeru pretends to laugh awkwardly. “Yahaba. He should be in the top office?” 

Her face goes awkwardly pale, her bright lipstick making her look almost sickly. “I - I apologize for my mistake, Yahaba-san. Your father mentioned you would be stopping by today, but it managed to slip my mind.” 

“Of course, I understand. But if you don’t mind, I’d really like to see him now.” 

“Naturally. He’s… in an important meeting right now, but his PA should be in his office.”

“I hope you don’t mind me letting myself up then.” 

The secretary shakes her head and takes a careful step backwards as Shigeru stands up, but doesn’t say another word. 

His smile drops from his face the moment he’s out of sight, the elevators doors closing behind him. He only managed to catch a glimpse of her Mark, but that was enough. Most Marks in the image of a rose don’t look anything like that. The thorns are far too obvious, the petals nearly moments from falling off the flower. 

Only people whose relationships with their soulmates are falling apart at the very seams have Marks that look like that. His arm grazes against his hip as the elevator starts to move. His own Mark won’t even have the opportunity to look like that, not when his relationship with Kyoutani will never move past what it is now. Or, at the very least, it will never be the sprawling artwork so many people carry. 

As for the secretary, she has almost certainly put her job before her relationship with her soulmate. She wouldn’t care about appearances so much otherwise. 

And that is exactly the sort of person his father would hire to be the first person his clients meet.

Shigeru lets his hand fall back to his side when the elevator stops at the third floor to let someone on. One of his father’s employees gives him an odd look at first, but Shigeru is quickly forgotten as people get on and off in the slow climb to the top floor. If they recognize him as his father’s son, no one shows it. 

If Shigeru really wanted, he could do this on a regular basis. It would take a lot of energy to channel that charismatic part of Oikawa, but it wouldn’t be impossible in a pinch. Only that Kyoutani’s words from yesterday still echo through his head, far more difficult to dislodge than he would have thought. The comment still hasn’t disappeared by the time he reaches the top floor, then he breathes in deeply and forces it to. 

Regardless of what Kyoutani thinks he could be, this is where he is now. There isn’t much Shigeru can do about that. 

The only things on the top floor are the conference rooms and his father’s office. Given how often his father brags about potential clients losing their way, finding the office is almost surprisingly simple. All Shigeru has to do is follow the hallway. 

But despite the secretary’s words, the office is empty.

Shigeru sighs and briefly drops his guard as he walks around the spacious room. There are no hints of his father in this room, at least not the version of his father that he knows. Instead, two family photos decorate the desk, one of all four of them, and the other of his sister and her soulmate. No one would guess that two of those people are forgotten about more often than not.

The rest of the room is carefully constructed to turn people’s gazes towards the person on the other side of the desk. Bile fills Shigeru’s throat at the realization, each glance at the bookshelves and pictures dragging his gaze back towards the tall office chair. His father is the centre of his own universe here. Pretending to be Oikawa might not be enough, in the end.

“Oh, you showed up, after all.” 

Shigeru turns, quickly pulling the emotion from his face. 

A man stands in the doorway, only five or six years older than himself. The concerned frown painted onto his face is jarring when compared to his slicked back hair, but he steps inside and past Shigeru to place the collection of files tucked under his arm onto the desk. 

“Yahaba-san mentioned you were meant to stop by today,” the PA says, with his back to Shigeru. “But he also mentioned that you could be a bit of a flight risk.” 

Shigeru recoils before the words even manage to sink in. “If I’m a-” He cuts himself off and takes a brief moment to pull that facade of Oikawa back up. “Is he really in the position to judge that for himself? Father-son relationships always have their ups and downs, which I’m sure you know.” 

The PA looks over his shoulder, with the slightest hint of a smirk. “That’s quite the assumption to make, kid. My relationship with my father is perfectly fine.” 

“Oh, I didn’t-”

“But you’re halfway decent, so I’ll let it slide.” 

Shigeru falls silent, as the PA turns to face him once more. 

“Your father, on the other hand, is actually in an important meeting right now. He did tell me to show you around, if you decided to show up though,” the PA says, easily.

The files are left on the desk as the PA walks confidently towards the door. Shigeru follows behind him, pushing his shoulders back and forcing that pretty, Oikawa-esque smile back across his lips. 

A few employees stare when they walk by, starting from the lowest level and moving their way upwards. Understanding the lowest-level employees is imperative to everything else, is the explanation Shigeru is given as he stays one step behind the PA, pretending to focus on the employees rather than the man himself. No one could have made it clearer that Shigeru would never be expected to work as one of those lower-level employees, however. 

Just his father marks him as different from everyone else in this building. Never could someone more noticeably place him above other people. 

After that first floor, everything just goes downhill. Not a single word, question or otherwise, comes to mind as they move throughout the building. News of who Shigeru is must spread quickly throughout the building as well, given the strange, almost angry looks some of the employees start to give him. At the very least, the PA seems perfectly content to carry a conversation entirely by himself. 

His stomach churns uncomfortably while he contemplates what exactly he would be doing here, that entire line of thinking muddy and inexact. Other than advertising, Shigeru hasn’t even pieced together what the company does at all. 

“Of course, you cannot officially start here until you finish high school,” the PA informs him, once they exit the elevator to the top floor once more. “But your sister did manage to find a way around that. I wasn’t around at the time though, so you would have to ask her how she did it yourself.” 

The last thing Shigeru plans to do is ask his sister how she charmed her way up the company ladder. She’s already high enough that nepotism doesn’t quite explain it. 

Shigeru doesn’t want to know. 

He doesn’t want to know if he could do the same thing. 

“Naturally,” Shigeru says, anyways. The foul taste of bile still hasn’t left the back of his throat since he got here. “I’ll make sure to phone her tomorrow.” 

“You really should. Her advice is always-” The PA falters as they step into the office once more, “-phenomenal.” 

His father’s office is abandoned. 

There hadn’t been a trace of his father here before, but now it’s even worse. The desk has been cleared off entirely, the suitcase that once leaned against the far wall now gone. 

Every trace of emotion drops from Shigeru’s face. This can’t be his father just getting caught up in some stupid meeting, then forgetting. His father has never been the type of person to forget the television on, nevermind something like this. Shigeru should have expected something like this to happen. 

“I… paged Yahaba-san before he got out of his meeting. He should have known you were here. But sometimes the service here is a bit out of sorts, so maybe he never got it,” the PA rushes to say. 

“It doesn’t matter.”

Shigeru forces his hands to stay limp at his sides, his head bowed forward. It’s taking everything he has not to storm out of the building, to go back to Aoba Jousai and serve balls until his arms ache. 

“It does,” the PA insists. “I’m sure he would have stuck around if he knew you were here. He had even told me about all these things he planned on showing you just this morning.” 

This PA won’t last another two months here. 

Shigeru’s mouth flattens and he ignores the comforting twist of that knowledge. That comfort is nothing compared to knowing that there’s nothing left for him here. 

Kyoutani was right.

Shigeru probably can’t do this, even if he has every intention of trying. Not trying isn’t an option for him. Which means Kyoutani will just have to be content with his unchanging Mark, whatever it is. Understanding that he was right when he said Shigeru isn’t like Oikawa might even take the sting away. He’s sure that much will be written across his face tomorrow. 

His intentions of keeping this to himself don’t really matter. It won’t stop Shigeru from trying, but neither does the tremble of his shoulder when he turns away from the PA and stalks towards the elevator. For now, getting home is more important.

.

“So, how was not-practice?”

Shigeru scowls and punches Watari’s shoulder, ignoring the laughter that follows. “Do you know how many people have already asked me that?” 

“One?” Watari asks, impossibly amused with himself.

“You’re the fifth.” 

“Oikawa recruited the others into bothering you too, then.” 

Shigeru throws one of the last volleyballs into the bin with a bit more force than absolutely necessary. Or it might be with a lot more force than necessary, if the sudden pause in Oikawa’s over-confident claims on the other side of the gym is anything to go by. 

Watari rolls his eyes, and picks up another ball. “He just got his fanclub to join in, did he?” 

“More like Hanamaki and Matsukawa got involved.” Shigeru glowers at the memory. While Watari had been the fifth person to ask, he’s been asked a lot more than five times. “No one should have to listen to their attempts at interrogating something through song. No one should have to listen to them at all.” 

“And the other two?” 

“Kindaichi and Kunimi, of course.” 

The vindictive feeling in his chest turns satisfied when Watari snorts. Then slowly starts to laugh, the intensity building until Watari is clutching at his gut. Someone should get a bit of amusement from all of this. And it certainly isn’t going to be Shigeru.

His satisfaction fades away as he spots Kyoutani lingering by the doorway, making no show of hiding how his stare is fixated on Shigeru. Their plans for today haven’t been forgotten though. Shigeru couldn’t have forgotten, not even with what happened yesterday following closely over his head. 

As if Shigeru could ever forget Kyoutani.

“Can you take care of the last of this?” he asks Watari, faintly. 

“Ditching again?” Watari swallows back the last of his laughter and gives Shigeru a wide grin. “Hanamaki and Matsukawa might just come up with a whole play tomorrow.” 

“How can I ditch if practice is already over? No, wait. Don’t answer that.” 

Watari starts laughing again before Shigeru walks off. Hopefully he doesn’t notice how Shigeru heads straight towards where Kyoutani had just been standing. The excess teasing is the last thing he needs when he’s still trying to figure out how this afternoon is going to go. 

Kyoutani is waiting for him just outside, his face set into a small frown. Shigeru slowly blinks, his mouth going dry. That frown isn’t anything like the glares he gives Shigeru on the court, nothing the scowl perpetually directed towards Oikawa. It almost makes him look softer, the line between his eyebrows nearly smoothed away. 

“You okay?” Kyoutani asks, unprompted. 

“What?” 

“You’ve been weird all day.” Kyoutani looks away, halting the last few thoughts in his mind, because if Shigeru didn’t know any better, he would say there’s the slightest tint of red to his cheeks. “I thought some shit might have gone down yesterday.” 

His shoulders slump. “Don’t worry about it, okay?” 

Kyoutani ducks his head and starts for the club room. Dejected is the word that immediately comes to mind, but that can’t be right. Mark or no Mark, him and Kyoutani have never been on good terms. 

But Kyoutani invited him over this afternoon. Kyoutani noticed him acting a bit off all day, even though they aren’t in the same class, even though they hadn’t talked to each other. Those aren’t the sorts of things people who are on bad, or even just awkward terms would do.

Shigeru should stop this. His fists clench and unclench as he follows behind Kyoutani. If it weren’t for the way yesterday turned out, maybe he would be able to force himself to lie and say he can’t actually make it this evening. But having to look his father in the eye last night, both of them well aware of what happened and neither saying a word about it, was one of the most difficult moments of his life. 

If nothing else, Shigeru wants to have this much in his life. 

The walk to Kyoutani’s is short, for all that it’s also silent. Shigeru walks half a step behind Kyoutani the entire way, his hands tucked into his pockets. He almost wants Kyoutani to say anything, even just make some biting comment. Instead, he seems so focused on where they’re going, ignoring the way Shigeru watches him from the corner of his eye. 

“This is it,” Kyoutani abruptly mutters.

Shigeru stops and turns, his response catching in the back of his throat. 

This is where Kyoutani lives. Somehow, that reality didn’t once occur to him over these past couple days. Kyoutani lives in a real house with a small yard and a garden overgrown with flowers, like the person taking care of it just couldn’t stop themselves from planting more. 

His family’s apartment is almost depressing in comparison. Shigeru swallows and pushes that particular thought away before it can start to fester. But the truth of the matter is that he can see the toys gathered around the front gate, the ornaments dangling from the windows. The grass isn’t carefully maintained and he would bet anything that there aren’t pieces of art inside worth more than the entire house. His lips turn upwards into a genuine smile, despite that.

“It isn’t much,” Kyoutani says, awkwardly, “but it’s home.” 

Shigeru slowly shakes his head. “It’s wonderful.” 

“You don’t need to fucking-” 

He interrupts with a laugh and continues on through the gate. Music radiates from an open window, and he doesn’t know how he missed the cheerful tune before. 

Kyoutani falls into step beside him. Their arms brush with each step, and Shigeru doesn’t feel the overwhelming urge to step away for once. The contact only disappears once they get to the front door, and only because Kyoutani steps forwards to open the door for him. 

It’s already unlocked. The last time his own front door was left unlocked was probably years ago, regardless of whether or not someone was home. 

“Ken-chan, is that you?” someone shouts from inside. 

The door closes behind them, and Kyoutani rolls his eyes, just subtle enough that Shigeru nearly misses it. “Yeah, kaachan.” 

“And is-” 

“Yes, kaachan!” Kyoutani says, quickly speaking over her. He glances over at Shigeru, the faintest tinge of red back in his cheeks. “Shut up.” 

Shigeru finds himself holding back laughter. “I didn’t say anything.” 

“Doesn’t mean you weren’t thinking it.” 

“Thinking what exactly?” another voice adds in, just as amused as Shigeru feels. “I swear, if this is about me calling you Ken-chan, than you really shouldn’t be so embarrassed. Parents always have cute nicknames for their children.” 

Shigeru turns towards Kyoutani and grins, despite the sour churn of his gut. “Yeah, Ken-chan, parents always have cute, embarrassing nicknames for their children.” 

The next thing he hears is laughter, warm and welcoming. Then Kyoutani’s mother pulls him into a tight hug, his back straightening at the unexpected contact. He should hug her back. He should do anything other than stand perfectly in place, as stiff as a board.

After a long moment, she pulls away and smiles at him. Her grin isn’t quite as bright as it was before, but the laugh lines are still visible around the corners of her eyes. “You are okay with this, aren’t you, dear? I know something stopped you from reaching out to our Ken-chan before, but please don’t feel pressured to be here before you’re ready for it.” 

“Kaachan-” 

“Shush, would you?” Kyoutani’s mother gives Kyoutani a flat look, offset by the amused twitch of her lips. “This is an important conversation to have.” 

“I do. I do want to be here,” Shigeru says, softly. 

The tension dissipates from the room as if it had never been there to begin with. “Good, good, that’s exactly what I like to hear. Anyways, I’ll let Ken-chan show you around the house, and I want to get a bit more work done in the backyard before dinner.”

“You’re not cooking in here, are you?” Kyoutani suddenly cuts in, rather than just letting her leave without a word. “Tousan banned you from the kitchen. Just because he has to work late tonight, doesn’t mean you get free rein in there.” 

“My own son wounds me,” she says, with false mourning.

Kyoutani rolls his eyes. “Kaachan.” 

“Stop worrying so much. It’s just that candle I bought last week.” 

Kyoutani relaxes at the reassurance, and Shigeru hesitates. Now that someone has pointed it out, there is the warm scent of freshly-baked cooking wafting through the house. 

Kyoutani’s mother laughs and reaches over to ruffle his hair. The lack of a reaction from Kyoutani is almost more jarring to Shigeru than everything else about this visit. Where he’s supposed to fit half of this in with what he already knows about Kyoutani is a mystery. Even beyond that, so many things have already caught him off guard.

Shigeru follows Kyoutani’s lead awkwardly as he exchanges his shoes for slippers, then heads further into the house. To his surprise, they don’t go through the whole house, room by room, just up the stairs to a hallway of open doors. Kyoutani turns into the first one on the right and Shigeru trails after him. 

This has to be Kyoutani’s room. For one, Kyoutani dumps his backpack by the door. But for the most part, there are volleyball posters littering the walls, making it feel a lot smaller than it must be. The homework on the desk looks a lot like the exercises Shigeru was assigned last week too, half completed with a pencil abandoned just to the side. 

“I figured you wouldn’t care about getting the full tour,” Kyoutani mutters, his shoulders pulled together. “Nobody really does shit like that anyways.” 

Shigeru swallows, standing awkwardly in the middle of the room. “Right.” 

“We could, though. If you wanted to.” 

“It’s fine.” He looks up, their gazes briefly meeting before Kyoutani looks away again. “I want to see your house,” he continues, almost surprised to find he’s telling the truth. “But we don’t need to have some sort of formal tour.” 

“This isn’t going to be like the time you cheered for Karasuno at Nationals, is it? If everyone is stupid, then you don’t have to cheer for either of them.” 

Shigeru immediately bristles. “When the fuck are you going to let that go?” 

And just like that, Kyoutani’s composure breaks. 

It isn’t as obvious as Watari’s laughter or the PA’s awkward fumbling. The only thing that changes is the corners of his mouth turning upwards in what is almost a smile. Well, it isn’t quite the only thing, not with Shigeru’s heart beating a loud, unsteady rhythm against the inside of his rib cage. 

“Just what do you think you’re smiling at?” 

“I knew it.” Kyoutani grins in earnest now, the wrinkle between his eyebrows smoothing away entirely. It leaves Shigeru feeling like he just walked off the edge of a cliff. “I knew I could get you to stop acting like Oikawa.”

.

Darkness hides Shigeru’s face from view as he sneaks up the stairs to the apartment. The light above the staircase has been broken for nearly two weeks now, no one wanting to be the one to fix it. His feet don’t quite feel like they’re touching the ground anymore. They haven’t since Kyoutani’s mother pulled him into yet another hug before he left.

Speechless isn’t a strong enough word to explain how he feels right now. Never had he imagined that Kyoutani’s family would be so nice or so open. Shigeru snorts to himself as he unlocks the door. More accurately, no one would ever believe how nice Kyoutani can be. His sister clearly adores him, and it goes both ways, judging by the way he just let her crawl all over him. 

The lights are off when Shigeru steps inside.

His good mood disappears, just like that. Nobody should be asleep yet, not at this time of day. It’s only an hour or two after dinnertime, and while his mother tends to go to bed early, she never goes to bed this early. Shigeru made certain he wouldn’t be too late when he left Kyoutani’s. 

He slips off his shoes at the door, his footsteps nearly silent on the wood floors as he goes to investigate. Something about the apartment feels off, even more so than it usually does. His father always goes to the living room right after dinner, but the room is abandoned when he checks it. There’s no familiar static of the television, the light beside the couch still off. Only silence echoes out of the room and into the hall, as haunting as it would have been with his father sitting inside.

The kitchen is next. 

Shigeru stops in the hall outside the door, his legs frozen in place. 

His mother sits at the kitchen table, all of the lights turned off around her. The smell of burnt food hits him like a concrete wall, even from out in the hall. Shigeru takes a careful step inside. She doesn’t look up at him, doesn’t so much as twitch. 

“Your father is late tonight,” she says after a moment, her voice hardly above a thick whisper. “I mean, he’s later than he normally is.” 

Shigeru swallows the lump in his throat. “Have you been sitting here since dinnertime?” 

“Of course. Where else would I be?” 

He lets out a shaky breath and reaches towards the switch, flooding the room in light. His mother squints up at him from the table, her eyes clearly struggling to adjust to the sudden brightness. 

She hadn’t even finished cooking. 

Half of the meal is on the table, instead of in the bowls she set out for everyone, with rice in every which direction. They finally make eye contact and Shigeru halts in his steps. Thick makeup is smeared beneath her eyes, dark enough to make her look like something other than human.

Nothing could stop him from carefully sitting across from her, from letting his hand linger on her shoulder when he walks past. They both sit there for a long moment. Shigeru doesn’t have the words to start this conversation, doesn’t know where he would start if he did. Despite how broken she looks, she is still his mother. 

Which means the words should come to him, but they don’t. 

“Where did you go after practice today?” she asks him, quietly.

Shigeru’s gaze drops down to the table, his hands carefully folded in front of him. “A friend’s house. I told you yesterday that they invited me over.” 

“A friend’s?” 

“Yeah.” The awkwardness threatens to swallow him whole, as they both ignore the obvious fact that Watari is the only friend Shigeru ever mentions. “Kyoutani Kentarou. We’re both on the volleyball team.” 

“Kyoutani? Weren’t you complaining about him a few months ago?” 

“Probably, yes.” 

She tries for a smile, and Shigeru ignores how it wavers. “It’s nice that the two of you are getting along now, then.” 

His hand drops down to his hip, where his Mark is. But she hardly seems to notice the movement, too focused on something just outside of Shigeru’s perception. 

Sometimes, Shigeru wonders if she ever remembers that he has a Mark. Sometimes, he wonders if she remembers that there’s a life outside of these four walls, outside of his father. Then he remembers the way her hands shake when his father gets home late. Or the way she can’t seem to think of anything other than herself after they argue. Or that he doesn’t even know what her own Mark looks like. 

“It is,” he admits, quietly. To his own ears, it sounds like a confession of something it isn’t. “I just didn’t understand him before.”

.

“Are you ever going to stop touching your Mark?” Watari asks, giving him a knowing look.

Shigeru moves his hand from his hip as quickly and subtly as he can. His Mark still burns beneath his clothes, its newly smooth edges clear in his mind. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

A shriek echoes from the other side of Iwaizumi’s living room, making them both turn to stare for a brief moment. Oikawa’s eyes are wide with horror as he stares down at his newly-soaked shirt, juice still dripping from his hair. Iwaizumi stands in front of him, empty glass still poised over Oikawa’s head. 

Perhaps for once in his life, Shigeru has no intentions of going to find out what just happened. Knowing Oikawa, he almost certainly deserved it. And that is something he wouldn’t have said six months ago. 

“Anyways, I know I’ve been preoccupied lately, but I’m not that oblivious.” Watari pauses to think it over, then shrugs. “Well, I’m not usually that oblivious. There’s an exception to everything.” 

“Still don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

Watari rolls his eyes and reaches for another handful of chips. “Yahaba, you were literally just touching your Mark.” 

“You were imagining things,” Shigeru counters.

“Try saying that again with a straight face.” 

“How do you even know where my Mark is?”

“Because he isn’t a fucking dumbass. The entire team knows where your Mark is, because you can never manage to keep your hands off of it.” 

Shigeru glances at Kyoutani, the back of his neck suddenly feeling far too warm for this room. “Trying to get away from Oikawa and Iwaizumi before they go nuclear too?” 

“Why would I be around them in the first place?” Kyoutani’s gaze stays on him, heavy with meaning. “Not that it matters when you’re just trying to change the subject. You’re almost as shitty at that as you are at lying.” 

If Shigeru wasn’t planning on explaining to Watari, he certainly isn’t going to explain to Kyoutani. The two of them have been sidestepping the fact of their Marks for so long, that Shigeru doesn’t know what he should do with even this much. At the same time, his chest aches with the need to know how long Kyoutani has been watching him touch his Mark for. Weeks or months or years, it itches at him. 

Watari looks between them, his mouth opening and closing, before settling on something. “You know what? I’m just going to go see if Kindaichi and Kunimi are okay. Far away from you two. Because I’m not convinced you two aren’t about to go nuclear too, actually.”

“Watari, you-” Shigeru’s voice drops as Watari all but runs away, headed straight for the back door. “Asshole.” 

“Does he normally pull shit like that?” 

Shigeru pulls his attention back towards Kyoutani. “More often than you’d think, actually.”

Kyoutani snorts, and he almost seems to relax, just a bit. 

It is an odd contrast to the way Oikawa starts whining at Iwaizumi, moments away from pulling off his shirt and shoving it at him in front of everyone. For a group of people who have just graduated, they are certainly a lot less mature than Shigeru would expect. 

At the very least, Kyoutani doesn’t press any more questions about his Mark. Separating Kyoutani his teammate from Kyoutani his soulmate has gotten more difficult these couple weeks, especially now that Shigeru knows what he’s like at home. But they are the same people, in the end. Talking to Kyoutani’s mother revealed that much, when they’d spoken about Kyoutani in the living room before exams took over. 

His father didn’t show up until the next morning after his visit to Kyoutani’s. By then, the kitchen had been impeccable and Shigeru had no choice but to leave his mother with him, not when he had to go to school and practice. It still leaves him with a sour taste in his mouth.

“How’s that first year setter doing?” Shigeru asks, as casually as he can. 

Kyoutani freezes, regardless. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“He’s about this tall.” Shigeru levels his hand just below the top of his own head. “A bit nervous at time, but has latched onto you, despite the whole scary upperclassman vibe you like showing off.” Kyoutani’s face stays frustratingly blank. “You’ve been going to practice early every morning to try and help him.” 

Kyoutani caves almost instantaneously at the last comment, ducking his head to hide the red flush of his cheeks. 

“If it makes you feel better, I don’t think anyone else has noticed. Except maybe Oikawa.” 

“Is that shit supposed to make me feel better or something?” Kyoutani demands.

“I’m just pointing out the facts.” 

Kyoutani makes a strangled noise, right from the back of his throat. 

“I could stop by a bit early too sometime, if you want,” Shigeru offers, finally taking pity on him. “I don’t know why you’ve taken him under your wing, but he’ll probably improve a lot faster if someone throws the ball in for him. And I could point out a few technical things as well.”

“Really?” 

“No, I just offered because I thought I’d get a good laugh out of it.” Kyoutani automatically tenses, and Shigeru lets out an exasperated huff, shifting his weight so that their shoulders knock together. “That was a joke.” 

“A bad one,” Kyoutani says, something a bit off about his voice. 

“Well, excuse me for thinking you’re actually good with other people when you want to be.” 

Kyoutani hesitates, then shifts closer to Shigeru. Their arms press together, and all it would take is a subtle turn of his wrist for their fingers to intertwine. No one else would even notice, all of the recent graduates laughing to themselves as Oikawa finally storms off to the bathroom. But at the same time, all it would take is one more smile for him to be in over his head.


	3. seedling

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the comments and kudo! I hope you enjoy the chapter - also, this is about as angsty as the entire fic is going to get, just so you're all aware.

His heart jumps into his throat at the resounding smack that echoes through the gymnasium. The sound of Karasuno cheering registers before his own loss does, and Shigeru stands there, helpless. There’s nothing left for him to do here. 

All it takes is one point to put them out of the running for Nationals entirely. Shigeru mindlessly stares at the blurring floor below him, as that point against Seijou sinks in. He can’t even muster up the energy to drop to the ground. He can’t hear anything other than Karasuno from the other side of the net, with Hinata’s shoes squeaking against the floor as he jumps into the air and high fives being exchanged in every direction.

Karasuno is so much more formidable than Aoba Jousai now. It must be something about going to Nationals, something about training with high-ranked teams. 

But they train with high-ranked teams too, a voice in the back of his head reminds him. Perhaps not the Nationals-level teams from other Japanese high schools, but more than one local university has come by for practice matches as per Oikawa’s request. 

“Don’t you dare just stand there, Yahaba-chan!” 

Shigeru flinches from the bottom-most corner of his body. 

A hand grasps his shoulder before he can turn around to face the people gathered in the stands though, and he glances over at Kyoutani. His frown is even more deeply set than usual. But this is also the first time that he’s touched Shigeru of his own free will. 

“We could have done better,” Kyoutani admits, frustration wrapped around his low voice. “But that doesn’t mean we were shitty or any fuckery like that.” 

“Fuckery?” Shigeru wobbles on the odd word, not quite certain whether to laugh or cry. 

Kyoutani snorts, his eyes cast down so that Shigeru can’t see what emotions are running across his face, always as clear as day. “And the two of us - we were… good.” 

They were. 

The laughter comes this time around, but Shigeru can feel his tears spilling onto his cheeks and ducks his head to hide. He wants to lean into Kyoutani now, have Kyoutani wrap a comforting arm around his shoulders. But that is not the behaviour of a responsible captain. 

One of the most important things Oikawa ever taught him is that putting on a strong front for the team is sometimes the only way to keep them moving forward. Shigeru allows himself to stay like this for a few moments longer, regardless. Him and Kyoutani are likely the most well-developed component of their team thus far, and maybe not just in terms of play. All of those hours of extra practice have paid off without Shigeru even realizing it. They would have never gotten to this point without the countless times both of them either arrived to practice early or stayed late. 

Shigeru lets out one last, wavering breath, then rubs away the tears. His eyes feel swollen, but when he turns to face the team - his team - his despair is reflected back at him. Each person holds their heads high, despite that, and Shigeru can only do the same, feeling a touch more grounded.

“We lost,” he says, and his voice carries across the gym. 

“You going to tell us something we don’t know?” Watari snipes at him. 

Shigeru levels him with a look, almost surprised when Watari does fall silent. “We lost, but that doesn’t mean we have to continue losing. This isn’t the end of the line for Seijou.” 

The teary nods raise his spirits, give him the opportunity to breathe in deeply and center himself properly. Kyoutani’s hand drops from his shoulder and he looks over. Tears almost fill his eyes once more, causing the miniscule hint of a smile to drop from Kyoutani’s face entirely.

“No, don’t-” 

Kyoutani glowers at him. “Shut the fuck up, Yahaba.” 

“You just smiled! How could I keep quiet about that?” 

Kyoutani wastes no time in punching him, a scowl already etched into his face once more. Shigeru only laughs, despite the pain dimly radiating from his arm, and the ground feels a bit firmer beneath his feet.

But post-game traditions can’t wait until Shigeru feels better about their loss. About not being the one to take their team to Nationals, even after all the effort Oikawa went through to groom him for the role of captain.

Except that Shigeru isn’t thinking about Oikawa when they bow to the audience up in the stands, even with his mysterious disappearance. Part of that can be attributed to Kindaichi’s muffled crying from the middle of the line, but not entirely. Shigeru sighs as he bows, even though he’s blinking a bit more often than he should be himself. This year’s news broadcast won’t be focused on Aoba Josai’s captain, not when Kindaichi’s snotty nose will take front and center after they interview Karasuno.

Everything goes numb as they shake hands with Karasuno and go through their cool down though. Five sets is far too much for him to handle, even after all the training they went through to ensure they could last that long. But the slow jog around the gym helps ease his muscles until he can almost breathe again. 

Any momentary peace flees when Shigeru glances towards the doors and spots Oikawa staring at him. His grip on his water bottle tightens, his back filled with tension. And Oikawa naturally chooses that exact moment to walk through the door, headed right towards him.

“Oikawa-senpai,” Shigeru cautiously says. 

Oikawa’s mouth dramatically turns downwards in what could only be a pout. “I thought we were already past this, Yahaba-chan! It was nice to hear while you were still my underclassman, of course, but things have changed since I left.” 

“Oikawa-senpai, what do you want?” 

“I don’t think I should tell someone who doesn’t consider me an equal!” Oikawa lifts his chin, sounding far more childish than Shigeru can remember him ever sounding before. “But, in light of your heartbreaking defeat, I’ll tell you anyways.” 

“Please do. We need to board the bus soon, if we want to make it back to the school before dinnertime.” 

“Well, I suppose I’ll just take my congratulations elsewhere then!” 

All Shigeru can do is stare.

It almost sounded like Oikawa just congratulated him. But they just lost an important match against Karasuno, probably their most important match of the tournament. Oikawa usually isn’t quite that insulting. At least, not that insulting towards anyone who isn’t Iwaizumi or Ushijima.

His silence does nothing to take the steam out of Oikawa. That smirk has sent him into a bout of confusion more times than Shigeru can count, but right now, his exhaustion outweighs his ability to think things through. But Oikawa keeps standing there, clearly waiting for Shigeru to say something. Shigeru sighs and closes his eyes, half-tempted to rub away the tension between his eyebrows, just like Iwaizumi has a habit of doing when he’s around Oikawa. 

If only Iwaizumi were around to smack some sense into Oikawa or explain what’s going on right now to Shigeru, but apparently writing papers comes before watching his high school volleyball team.

“You defeated Shiratorizawa.” His eyes quickly open again, but Oikawa is still just standing there with his arms smugly crossed in front of him. “Don’t think I didn’t notice, Yahaba-chan! That’s something I never managed during my tenure as captain.” 

“We lost,” Shigeru points out, faintly. 

“And I’m certain you and Kyouken can come up with a strategy to deal with Tobio-chan and the chibi’s monster spike,” Oikawa says, shrugging. “But in the meantime, I happened to spot Ushiwaka-chan in the stands earlier, and it’s been so long since the two of us talked.” 

The menacing edge to his smirk is the only part of the conversation that makes sense to Shigeru. He stands there watching Oikawa walk away again, looking entirely satisfied with himself. For all that Shigeru is taking it in, it might as well be an out-of-body experience. 

Standing there in the gymnasium, surrounded by his teammates, Karasuno’s members, and news crews alike, is where Shigeru pieces together the assumption Oikawa just made. 

Namely that he’s still going to be captain during the Spring High tournament. 

His feet lead him out of the gym in a haze. Shigeru might bump into someone at one point, but he’s so preoccupied with his conversation with Oikawa that he hardly notices. Someone could probably pop a balloon in his face right now and he’d only blink. 

Getting into a university on a volleyball scholarship would be a dream come true. But there are so many other things he needs to worry about first. What if he doesn’t get a scholarship and the extra eight or nine months on the team turn out to be for nothing? There won’t be enough time to study if he stays, not the way he’ll need to in order to get into a worthwhile university. Does Shigeru even want to lead Seijou into yet another defeat? 

“Shigeru.” 

Each of his muscles seize up at the sound of his name.

Shigeru slowly swallows the lump in his throat as he stares at his father standing in front of the parking lot. His feet itch to turn back around and join the rest of Seijou in the gym again. Just about anything would be better than facing the frown on his father’s face, and that imposingly perfect posture.

His father sighs, like Shigeru’s very existence is a personal affront to him. “What took you so long?” 

“I - I needed to cool down after the game, and - then a former upperclassman needed to talk to me about something,” he says, stumbling over his words.

I didn’t even know you knew about the tournament, he doesn’t say. 

“Well, don’t just stand there. Your coach and I already spoke about you coming home with me,” his father informs him, and he’s already turning towards the parking lot without so much as checking to see if Shigeru is following behind him. “If we don’t leave now, I’ll miss my dinner appointment.” 

No.

The word threatens to bubble out of Shigeru, like a carbonated drink after it’s been shaken. But the weight on his chest stops it, and the pressed creases of his father’s suit make him reconsider. 

Each step towards the car is a struggle. Failure presses down on his shoulders, but this time it isn’t because they lost to Karasuno. No, this failure is his and his alone to carry. Maybe it shouldn’t matter to him so much, but it does. Just the knowledge that a meal is waiting for him at the restaurant Mizoguchi reserved this morning, that he won’t be there to eat with the team makes his throat close up.

Last year, Kyoutani went home right after the game. That memory is just as immediate in his mind as his father’s silence. But this year, Kyoutani has every intention of being there, both because of his role as vice captain and because him and Shigeru talked about it. They’d already talked about giving a proper speech on defeating Karasuno at Spring High. About helping him check on the second years. About helping him figure out who exactly will be best suited for the role of captain next year, just as Iwaizumi helped Oikawa last year.

His breath catches as he climbs into the car, the door clicking behind him. Out of everyone on the team, Kyoutani will be the one he lets down the most when it becomes obvious that he isn’t there. Neither of them can count how many practices they’ve spent training together anymore, and things have finally come together, just as they wanted. Now, all Shigeru can hope for is that things don’t worsen between them. 

Aoba Jousai walks out of the school, just as his father starts to pull out of the parking lot. 

Shigeru immediately ducks his head, unwilling to see whatever expressions are waiting for him there. His shoulders must come up all the way to his ears, but he can’t bring himself to look up again until his father pulls out onto the road. 

All it takes is one glance over his shoulder for him to spot Kyoutani. He’s standing too far away for Shigeru to make out the expression on his face, but he starts for the bus right then and there. Nausea fills Shigeru as his father turns the corner, his gaze focused back on his lap.

“I thought your team was ranked second in the prefecture,” his father comments into the silence of the car.

Shigeru stares down, blankly. “That was last year.” 

“And you’re the captain this year.” 

The full-bodied flinch that follows forces the tears from earlier back into the corners of his eyes. “We beat Shiratorizawa. But Karasuno was a write off until last year’s Spring High tournament.” 

His father hums, focused on the road in front of them. “Universities won’t take that into consideration. Cold, hard facts are the only things that will get you anywhere in life.” 

“I know that,” Shigeru snaps. 

“Do you? Nothing you’ve done so far seems to suggest that.” 

Shigeru swivels his head, prepared to retort, then swallows back the words at the sight of his father’s impassive expression. “I’ll try harder then,” he says instead, because he knows that’s what his father expects of him.

“I would hope so. Your exams are coming up soon, and so you need to focus all of your attention on that. It will reflect badly on our family if you don’t get into a good university.” 

“I already spend all of my time outside of volleyball studying.” 

“Then it’s a good thing that this was your last tournament, isn’t it?”

.

“You came back.”

Shigeru takes a good, long look around the gymnasium. It is exactly as empty as it had been for the last few minutes, which is to say that him and Kyoutani are the only ones who showed up for after-dinner training. Just like they said they would, not half an hour ago. 

When he turns back, Kyoutani is scowling at him. 

“You know what I’m talking about,” Kyoutani says, with no small amount of frustration. 

Shigeru hums and goes to reach for a ball. “I don’t think I do, actually. Did I disappear at all during the walk from the dining hall?” 

“You disappeared after Inter High.” 

The polite smile Shigeru had been wearing up until then turns brittle, his knuckles whitening as he grips the volleyball. Inter High has been a taboo topic these past couple weeks. Plays and strategies to combat Karasuno have been free play, but Shigeru hasn’t heard a heard about what happened after the actual match itself.

But getting to listen to Kunimi whisper possible methods of getting back at Kageyama to Kindaichi has almost been worth losing to Karasuno. As if Shigeru doesn’t have every intention of throwing him into the role of captain. And the blow has been softened slightly, since Inter High. More specifically after they won a practice match against Karasuno just last weekend. Seeing the sudden tension between Kageyama and Hinata certainly helped as well. 

At no point has Kyoutani himself brought up Inter High.

The two of them have hardly even talked to each other until this training camp started. 

“C’mon, Kyoutani, do we have to talk about this now? There isn’t much time until we should be in bed for tomorrow,” Shigeru asks, falsely pleasant.

Kyoutani doesn’t budge so much as an inch.

Shigeru narrows his eyes and throws the ball up into the air. He sets it as it comes back down, just as he had been doing for the hour before dinner. 

As soon as he sets the ball, he knows it isn’t quite right. It feels too heavy on his fingertips, like it weighs a whole kilo more than it should. Sure enough, the ball veers off to the side and falls uselessly to the ground. Not that Kyoutani had gotten into position to spike it in the first place, still standing an arm’s length away from Shigeru. 

This time, Shigeru leaves it there. 

“Just what is your problem?” 

Kyoutani stares at him, his mouth set into a thin, straight line. “I’m the one with a fucking problem now?” 

“Yes! You won’t even talk to me. No one will talk to me, for that matter, not even Watari!” Shigeru snaps and he takes an automatic step forwards. 

“Ever think that’s because you won’t say anything to us, not the the other way around?” 

It doesn’t sink in that the loud, frustrated noise that follows comes from him until Shigeru has already closed the rest of the distance between them. His hands bury themselves into Kyoutani’s collar. There’s no wall nearby to help prove his point this time. That much would be thinking ahead, which Shigeru certainly hasn’t done.

His arms shake as Kyoutani stands there, all but cemented into place. Then the similarities between the last time this happened and now hit Shigeru. 

They hit him like a train would crash into him. 

Pure willpower is the only thing that stops Shigeru from letting go and taking a few hasty steps backwards. Only then do the differences rush in as well, small details compared to everything else. Kyoutani isn’t nearly as scrawny as he was six months ago, the muscles built up in his shoulders not even comparable to Shigeru’s own arms. He doesn’t look away this time either, not down at the floor or anywhere else. 

All that is reflected back at him is Shigeru himself. His gaze drops down, immediately incapable of looking anywhere else. Just the slightest shift forwards and Shigeru would find out if Kyoutani’s lips are just as chapped as they appear to be. This thing, whatever it is, has been building between them for so long now, that actually kissing Kyoutani seems like something that would only happen in a dream. Probably because Shigeru only lets himself think about it in those few minutes after he’s woken up after such a dream.

His Mark twinges at his hip, making him overly aware of it and of who exactly Kyoutani is supposed to be to him. Shigeru slowly relaxes his grip and leans forward. Warm breath ghosts across his lips, and his heart beats so loudly in his chest that he would bet on Kyoutani being able to hear it as well. 

It’s impossible to tell which one of them pulls away first, but it happens despite that. Shigeru lets go of his collar and stumbles back a couple steps, his chest heaving with the effort to pull in oxygen. 

“I’m not going to apologize,” Shigeru blurts out. 

Kyoutani snorts, successfully managing to break the odd tension between them. “Did it look like I was fucking asking you to?” 

“No, but-” 

“All I want is for you to actually talk to someone, you know? I don’t give a fuck if it isn’t me. You just need to get that shit out of your system.” 

“Oh.” 

The distance between them feels awkwardly large. 

Words build up in the back of Shigeru’s throat. They’re all of the things that he’s been meaning to say for weeks now, all of the apologies he meant to make after Inter High and then didn’t. But an apology isn’t what he wants to turn this into. 

A thousand moments flicker in front of his eyes, all at once, and it’s as if a clamp forces itself around his heart. His father tells him that one day, he’ll meet his soulmate. Kyoutani watches him from the corner of his eye, saying nothing. Watari laments over wanting to know who his soulmate is. His mother sits alone in that dark dining room. Not a single moment is off the table. All of them make it more and more difficult for Shigeru to force the explanation from his mouth.

“Hanako misses you.” 

Shigeru finally looks up and frowns. “What?” 

“Hanako, you know, my sister. She keeps going on about how much she misses you,” Kyoutani tells him. 

“I could… come over this weekend, I guess. I should probably go home after the training camp, but I could visit on Sunday.” 

Kyoutani nods and walks over to pick up the fallen volleyball, like that moment between them never happened at all. Neither of them say a word as they head back to the classroom the team has scoped out for sleeping in, not until Watari pulls them into an excited conversation about his receives. 

They don’t so much pretend it never happened as they do silently accept it. 

There isn’t much either of them can say, after that.

.

Shigeru shifts from side to side and tries to find a comfortable position. The chairs at the Kyoutani’s kitchen table aren’t uncomfortable, but that isn’t what’s making him uncomfortable. That would be the three empty seats around the table with Kyoutani nowhere in sight himself.

Technically, he already knows Kyoutani and his sister are out walking the dog around the neighbourhood. That doesn’t make him crave the familiarity of Kyoutani’s presence any less, though. Watching Kyoutani’s mother casually poke through the cupboards, looking for who knows what, is awkward enough. He can’t decide whether or not he should point out her supposed ban from the kitchen that Kyoutani mentioned the last time he was here. 

“Do you prefer jasmine or chamomile?” 

“Uh.” 

She turns to stare at him, the corner of her mouth twitching into a smile despite her attempts at keeping a straight face. “Would you relax already? It’s just tea. And I wouldn’t poison Ken-chan’s soulmate, not even accidentally.” 

“Soul… mate?” 

“Of course.” Just like that, her smile plain to see. “I’m sure you’ve realized by now how horrible Kentarou is at hiding things. Not that he ever tried to hide it from us. He was almost bursting with the news after you found each other.” 

Shigeru snorts. Even thinking about Kyoutani being incapable of hiding his emotions feels like lying. All he can picture is Kyoutani’s glowering frown whenever any of their underclassmen try talking to him. But then he remembers that first year, the one who’s been having a couple troubles spiking, and how the crease between Kyoutani’s eyebrows eased away as he helped.

She beams at him, grinning like they’ve just shared some secret or another. “See? You know exactly what I’m talking about Shigeru-kun.” 

“We’ve… never actually talked about it before.” 

The statement hangs between them, blurted out before Shigeru gave himself the chance to think twice about it. Kyoutani’s mother slowly softens and she crosses the kitchen. Shigeru recoils right before she reaches the table, but she ignores it as she pulls him into a hug. 

His head rests on her shoulder as he takes in deep, shaky breaths. The warm scent surrounding him reminds him entirely of Kyoutani, and that lets him close his eyes as her hand cradles the back of his head. Maybe Shigeru should have talked about the subject of soulmates with Kyoutani himself first, but never before has he felt quite so safe. Not even in his own bedroom with the door closed last night, as he examined his newly-changed Mark.

“It’s alright,” she murmurs. “Sometimes these things just don’t come easily, even if they seem like they should. Just remember that you’re always welcome here, no matter how things turn out with Kentarou.” 

“But-”

“No matter what,” she says, cutting him off. 

Shigeru falls silent again and after a long moment, Kyoutani’s mother pulls away and gives him a watery smile. He ducks his head, incapable of meeting her eyes. 

“I know this probably comes off as a bit rude, but can I see it?” 

Neither of them need to explain what it is. 

Shigeru nods. 

Both of them shift around as he awkwardly stands up and takes a step away from the table. Warm eyes are carefully focused on him while he pulls up the corner of his shirt and looks down at his hip. 

His Mark is clear to see above the waistband of his pants. As of a couple days ago, it’s composed of three shapes: a small square attached to a larger rectangle, then a thin triangle wrapping back towards his spine. There aren’t any lines separating the three shapes from each other now, and the sharp corners look like they’ve been almost carefully smoothed away. 

Just looking at his Mark always makes his throat close up without warning. This time, it’s even worse than all those times hidden away in his room, because now someone else is looking at it. For the first time, someone else knows what it’s changed into. 

“Oh,” Kyoutani’s mother softly exhales.

Shigeru swallows, his gaze still cast downwards. “What is it?” 

“It’s just - I’ve always wondered what Mark would represent Kentarou.” She looks up at him and smiles, impossibly fond. “It makes sense that your Mark is a dog. They’re such loyal creatures.” 

And there it is. If Shigeru squints at his Mark now, he can see the vague outline of a dog sprawled across his hip. It must be looking away from him now, but it’s difficult to tell without any of the other details that might fill it in one day. 

His fingers touch the outline as carefully as they can manage, his breath caught in the back of his throat. It doesn’t move underneath his touch, doesn’t shift its lines or seem to heave a sigh like Shigeru almost expects it to. Then he looks at Kyoutani’s mother and she beams back at him. For the first time, her cheerfulness doesn’t throw him off guard or make the urge to keep his head ducked down grow. Shigeru doesn’t even want to default to silence. 

Instead, he offers her a small smile in return.

A few minutes of quiet contemplation later makes her startle, abruptly remembering the tea on the kitchen counter. It’s incredibly bitter when Shigeru finally takes a sip and Kyoutani snorts at the expression on his face when him and Hanako get back.

.

Shigeru can see the cool, blue lights shining through the front window before he steps into his apartment, still sweaty from that evening’s practice.

But the light isn’t what makes him hesitate when he opens the door. What makes him hesitate is his mother sitting on the step just inside of the door, her gaze flickering upwards. She doesn’t look quite like she normally does. It takes him a moment to place the missing blankness that has refused to go away since he found her alone in the kitchen a couple months ago. 

“You’re here,” she says, her tone falling somewhere between worried and relieved. 

Shigeru doesn’t step inside. “I am.” 

“You need to leave.” 

The statement rings through his head, an odd echo to it that Shigeru can’t quite ignore. Nothing about his mother’s expression changes though, not even a waver as she slowly pushes herself up to her feet. 

Nothing about it sounds off. 

“How long do I have?” he asks, barely registering his own question. 

His mother gives him a strained smile. “Until your father gets home.” 

That could be anywhere between five minutes and four hours from now, Shigeru blankly realizes. He means to take in a deep breath, but instead, it’s short and shaky. His father will probably be here in closer to five minutes, actually, just to try and catch him before he leaves. Just to-

“Why?” Shigeru forces out. 

“I met Kyoutani-san at the grocery store this afternoon.” The declaration throws him off guard for a moment, because Kyoutani was definitely in school with him this afternoon and nowhere close to the grocery store. “She made a couple of interesting comments.” 

The rest of the pieces fall together, and the air leaves his lungs entirely. “You - she - _why_.” 

“I didn’t want this for you,” his mother babbles, oblivious. 

“What.” 

“She was nice enough, of course, but her sort of people always seem nice at first. And Shigeru, you would have been so much better off with a pretty girl of your social standing. It would just destroy you to be put in the position of trying to pay everything off for them.” 

“I don’t-” 

“It’s probably just a mistake, anyways. We’ll get it figured out, but in the meantime, it’s better that you leave, because your father certainly isn’t happy that you’ve kept this from him, and-” 

The last comment jumps to his attention before anything else does. “You didn’t have to tell him!” 

“Of course I did.” 

“No, you didn’t!” 

His mother takes an automatic step back and stares at him with wide eyes. She keeps her hands carefully in front of her, her shoulders hunched together like she might just disappear if he takes his eyes off of her. 

Only then does Shigeru notice the desperate rise and fall of his own chest, his hands curled into fists at his sides. Something wraps around his heart, something that’s thick and insidious that he can’t quite push away. He still wants to scream. He still wants to scream and yell until she finally listens to him and hears what he’s saying. 

Neither of them say a word as Shigeru pushes past her, not bothering to kick off his shoes. No matter how much he wants to shout at her and make her understand how wonderful the Kyoutanis are, his time is ticking away. Each moment he doesn’t spend packing his stuff is something else of his that his father will find, will read some incriminating activity into. 

Only criminals lie, his father always used to say. Between Kyoutani and continuing as Seijou’s captain, there are more lies than Shigeru can count. 

A backpack is pulled out from beneath his bed, just slightly larger than the one Shigeru uses for school. He starts with his laptop and chargers before shoving as many clothes inside as he possibly can. 

What his mother expects to see in his room from the doorway is uncertain. Shigeru has never been stupid enough to keep the things he really cares about in his room, or at least not where anyone else can find them. Any thoughts he doesn’t want to share are either never given life or are in password protected files on his laptop. Kyoutani has never given him any physical items. Him and Kyoutani hardly talk outside of school to begin with. 

Shigeru closes his backpack with shaky hands and pulls it over a shoulder. It sits oddly overtop of his school backpack, but it will have to do for now. His mother continues to wordlessly stare when he turns towards her, stepping out of the way only when he starts for the door. 

She doesn’t say a word. 

She doesn’t say anything while he walks down the hall. 

Not while he absently grabs an extra coat from the closet. 

Not while he opens the front door. 

And most certainly not when he steps outside, the charged silence of the apartment disappearing with a click behind him. 

That click of the closing door is what inspires Shigeru to move. The ground feels wobbly and uncertain beneath his feet, but it gets more solid with each step. He’s leaving home. He’s leaving and no one will try to stop him, just like they won’t shout at him or tell him what he needs to do with his life. 

Shigeru nearly makes it to the train station before his legs stop moving. Then they give out beneath him, forcing him to sit on the curb while he pulls out his phone with fumbling fingers. 

The world starts to shake as he sits there, and the back of his eyes burn as he rests his forehead against his phone. Each inhale is a struggle. Each exhale sounds like he’s moments away from crying. 

Shigeru has no idea how long he sits there for, willing no one to approach him. No one does, and the world slowly rights itself around him. His cheeks are wet when he rubs at his eyes, and that quiet realization almost makes the tears start all over again. But this time, there is nothing but a resigned determination when he opens up his phone and dials a number, holding it up to his ear as it rings. 

“Hey Kyoutani,” he says with an unbearably hoarse voice, once someone answers. “Do you mind if I come over?”


	4. vegetative

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have we finally moved past most of the angst? Ehhh, we'll see.
> 
> Thanks for all the wonderful kudos and comments!

His feet carry him to Kyoutani’s before he realizes he’s actually walking in the right direction. Too many other things are on his mind to focus on how to get there. The walk itself pales to the words echoing through Shigeru, to the nervous set of his mother’s mouth as she continuously glanced towards the door. Even recognizing Kyoutani’s automatic agreement had taken him a moment. 

Shigeru stares at the Kyoutani household as he struggles to force himself to keep going. Light shines through the windows, meaning Kyoutani isn’t the only one awake. That’s both surprising and not surprising at all. He knows, on some level, that it isn’t nearly as late as it feels. 

The couple other times he’s been here have been entirely different from this. Kyoutani had been a half-step ahead of him, his gaze dark and entirely focused on the front door, as well as a constant reason for Shigeru to follow. And those times didn’t include the rest of the things he’s gone through tonight. He breathes in deeply and finally summons up the courage to step across the property line.

Nothing happens. No fireworks announce his arrival, no one opens the front door before he even makes it up the path, and certainly no one whispers at him to turn back and phone Watari instead. The normalcy of it all is almost a breath of relief.

The weight on his chest eases the closer he gets to the front door. And his arm shakes for entirely different reasons when he knocks, reasons like exhaustion and hunger wearing down on him from all angles. Practice must have ended at least two hours ago, if not longer, and Shigeru still hasn’t had the opportunity to sit down and eat anything. Or shower, for that matter. He doesn’t want to know what he smells like right about now. 

All of that weight returns when the door opens to an unfamiliar face. There’s a beat of silence, neither of them saying anything in the long moments before Shigeru recognizes the older man. With that knot between his eyebrows, this man could only be Kyoutani’s father. 

Not that the similarities make him feel any less awkward about this situation. 

“Hi,” Shigeru offers, when the man doesn’t say anything. 

“Shigeru-kun?” the man asks.

“That’s me.” Normally, Shigeru would attempt a smile or something at this point, but he can hardly manage anything other than a grimace right now. His head and his heart are pounding far too much to try. “I’m here to see Kyoutani - uh, I mean, Kentarou-kun.” 

He inclines his chin in acknowledgement, not even the briefest surprise flickering across his face. “He’ll be a few more minutes. Come and wait in the kitchen.” 

Were anyone other than Kyoutani’s father giving the command, Shigeru would probably be a lot more nervous. But he’s watched Kyoutani interact with the first and second years before, and it always comes off with the same abrasive tone. Whether Kyoutani approaches them to give them advice or is pulled into his role as vice-captain when Shigeru isn’t paying the underclassmen enough attention. 

Shigeru slips off his shoes just as Kyoutani’s father glances back to check if he’s still following. His bags drop to the ground with a loud thud before he enters the kitchen though, the weight off his shoulders more of a relief than he realized it would be.

Then he has to hold back a smile at the argument echoing from the top of the stairs. That exasperated tone could only be Kyoutani’s, quickly followed by his mother insisting they do something another way. Neither of them sound angry, which he’s seen only a couple times now, all directionless frustration. 

A wave of warmth hits him as soon as he steps into the kitchen, right alongside the heavy scent of freshly cooked food. 

“Ken-chan figured you would be hungry,” Kyoutani’s father mentions, as he reaches for a bowl and fills it with rice. “Apparently there wasn’t enough time between leaving practice and your call for you to have eaten anything.” 

Shigeru blinks through his haze of hunger, the words belatedly registering. 

There hadn’t been enough time for him to eat. But he didn’t think that Kyoutani would notice something like that. He didn’t think Kyoutani paid enough attention to him to know how long it took to get home after practice or when he tended to eat dinner. Even the small amount of texting they’ve been doing doesn’t entirely explain it. 

Kyoutani’s father turns and hands him the bowl, curry poured on top of the rice, and chopsticks laid out across the top. “Sit. And feel free to take seconds. Thirds, even.” 

“I - thank you.” 

Shigeru sits at the kitchen table, briefly reminded of the last time he sat in this exact spot. The situations don’t have any other similarities, though at this point, he almost wishes they did.

Him alone with one of Kyoutani’s parents, as they force him to eat or drink. Not being entirely certain of what to do or how to react to the Kyoutani family as a whole. Those are about the only similarities. But it is easier to start in on the food when it smells so good. The taste is even better, and before he realizes it, he’s shovelling as much food into his mouth as possible, hardly noticing Kyoutani’s father sit down across from him. 

If food like this is why Kyoutani keeps trying to get out of team meals, then Shigeru doesn’t blame him. He would do the same thing, if he could eat like this every day. Or at least in theory, because team meals are still an important part of healthy team dynamics. One particular theory Shigeru heard from Oikawa on multiple occasions before he graduated. 

The bowl is empty far sooner than Shigeru expects it to be, the ache in his stomach only partially satisfied. He can’t remember the last time he ate quite like this. 

“Go ahead and grab more,” Kyoutani’s father says, just as Shigeru glances up. “That’s what it’s there for.”

Shigeru manages a small smile this time around. “Thank you. It’s delicious.” 

Kyoutani’s father softens, ever so slightly, and he turns his head as Shigeru gets up to grab seconds. 

When Kyoutani steps into the kitchen, his grumbles announcing his arrival, Shigeru is on his third bowl. He pauses as they make eye contact, the weight in his stomach preventing him from eating much more. 

“You found out about Tousan’s cooking then,” Kyoutani says, just a touch awkward. 

Shigeru nods. “I can’t believe you kept it a secret for so long. I hope you know that I have no intentions of leaving now, Ken-chan.” 

A brilliant flush travels from Kyoutani’s cheeks to his ears and he scowls, making Shigeru smirk. He likes how flustered Kyoutani gets over things like this. “I’d better hope so. I just spent the last hour setting up that damn futon.” 

Both his smirk and any response he might have had dry up, just like that. 

Shigeru hadn’t put too much thought into what Kyoutani and his mother were doing upstairs. And he certainly hadn’t brought up the topic of spending the night, his plans for the future drying up beyond the next couple hours. Plus, his focus had been on the food. 

Nothing about the heavy stare Kyoutani focuses on him suggests he’s lying though. Shigeru isn’t entirely certain that Kyoutani is capable of lying. It would probably turn out horribly with Kyoutani flushed and stumbling over half his words before defaulting to a scowl and leaving Shigeru to cackle in the background. Only one of those things is present now, and Kyoutani tends to blush whenever he’s even slightly embarrassed about something. 

Which means there really is a futon for him somewhere upstairs. Probably even in Kyoutani’s room, as Shigeru can’t think of anywhere else it might be. And that means he’ll wake up somewhere dry, even if he’ll have to figure out where to sleep tomorrow night. 

It’s still a start. 

And a lot more than he expected, honestly.

“You better not complain about the futon in the morning,” Kyoutani mutters, dropping his gaze. “Kaachan and I went through all that effort.” 

“I don’t know whether I should be more insulted that you think I can’t handle a futon or that you think I’d complain about it,” Shigeru says, lightly.

“You were complaining yesterday because your rice wasn’t sticky enough.” 

“My sushi kept falling apart!” 

“Still complaining, Yahaba.”

“Ken-chan, why don’t you bring Shigeru upstairs?” Kyoutani’s mother cuts in, smiling at Shigeru from the kitchen door. “I just brought his stuff upstairs, and I’m sure you both will appreciate some privacy while you flirt.” 

“Kaachan!” 

“Don’t wake up your sister,” she says, with a hint of teasing. 

Kyoutani falls silent, his scowl dangerously close to a pout. Then his eyes flicker over to Shigeru as he shoves his hands into his pockets. “C’mon, let’s go.” 

“Does she have a point, then?” Shigeru asks, smirking. 

Kyoutani turns on his heel, rather than responding. If they had been at school, Shigeru probably would have gotten a middle finger for all his troubles, instead of a stifled laugh from Kyoutani’s mother. It still counts as a win in his books. 

Shigeru hesitates as he stands up, his hands on the dishes until Kyoutani’s mother firmly takes them away from him. The route up the stairs to Kyoutani’s room is almost familiar by now, the door left open. It’s cleaner than almost every other time Shigeru has been here, which is saying a lot with how tidy Kyoutani had it before. Only this time, there’s also a futon in the middle of the floor. 

His bags have been carefully placed by the door, just as Kyoutani’s mother said. No wonder his shoulders still ache, because both bags are nearly bursting at the seams with how much he stuffed in there. One more thing and the bag might have broken on the way here.

“You can have a bath, if you want,” Kyoutani says, from the bed. 

Shigeru stares at him for a long moment. “Alright.” 

Neither of them say another word as Shigeru rummages through his bags. It takes him a few moments to realize that he didn’t actually grab any pajamas to change into. Or toiletries, for that matter. What he does have is over a dozen pairs of underwear shoved in the front pocket. 

Hopefully the Kyoutanis won’t mind him borrowing some soap and shampoo. 

When Shigeru comes back about half an hour later, Kyoutani is sprawled out on his bed in his pajamas with a sports manga in hand. It’s oddly nice. Nice like how the Kyoutanis have let him spend the night here. Nice, as in the opposite of how Shigeru feels right now, with the realization that he doesn’t have the first idea what to do next pressing in on him. Not with Kyoutani waiting for him. Not with being kicked out. 

“Do you mind if I turn off the light?” Shigeru asks, quietly. 

Kyoutani glances up and closes the manga, setting it on the ledge of his bedframe. “Go ahead.” 

Shigeru steps inside and slowly closes the door behind him, cutting off the quiet murmurs of Kyoutani’s parents downstairs. The light is next, and then the two of them are immersed in the dark.

It takes a few moments to find the futon, but Kyoutani doesn’t say a word as Shigeru fumbles his way under the covers. Another light turns on after a moment, making things a bit easier until Shigeru manages to lie down. Then he hears Kyoutani shuffle under his own covers, and the light from his cell phone abruptly cuts out. 

Darkness does nothing to help Shigeru sleep. His eyes feel heavy and he can’t quite tear them away from the ceiling, but sleep is elusive. Sleep has no chance against his racing thoughts, still repeating that hushed command for him to grab his stuff and leave before his father got home from work. It won’t let him forget that Kyoutani is the reason he was forced to leave, that Kyoutani is an arm’s length away.

But Shigeru can’t blame Kyoutani for this, not even if he wanted to. Shigeru is the one who never explained his father’s temper, the one who hid this whole thing from his family in the first place. 

“What happened?” Kyoutani asks into the dark silence. 

Shigeru inhales sharply, his jaw tight as he formulates his thoughts. “I… don’t really know.” 

“You… don’t know,” Kyoutani repeats back at him.

“Sort of.” 

“That explains shit all.” 

He snorts, letting the lack of light hide his smile for him. “I’m still trying to process everything, you dick.” 

The blank-faced expression Kyoutani certainly has is almost audible. 

“Ok, so that was a lie,” Shigeru admits. “I know what happened.” 

“No fucking shit.” 

“My parents kicked me out.” 

There’s a beat of silence before Kyoutani rolls over, his face just barely visible along the edge of the bed. His arm drops down in the space between the bed and the futon, so close to Shigeru. 

The point quickly becomes clear when Kyoutani touches Shigeru’s arm and reaches down until he can’t anymore. That’s when Shigeru grasps his hand like it’s a lifeline instead of an offer of comfort. The hold is awkward, somewhere between holding holding hands and a handshake. But clutching at each other’s wrists finally makes that weight in Shigeru’s chest ease just a bit. 

“Fuck them,” Kyoutani whispers. 

Shigeru lets out a shaky breath. “Yeah, fuck them.”

.

One night at Kyoutani’s quickly turns into two, once Kyoutani casually mentions that Shigeru no longer has a place to live over breakfast. It’s clear they think it will tide over sooner rather than later. That someone will contact him and ask him to come back, if not outright apologize for what happened.

When that doesn’t happen, Kyoutani’s mother pulls him aside and tells him he’s welcome to stay for as long as he needs. That if they never contact him, he can still stay with them. She pulls him into a tight hug as soon as tears start gathering in the corners of his eyes, so he never sees her realization himself. But something is noticeably different when she pulls away, a dim acceptance written into her face.

Living at the Kyoutani household changes more than Shigeru thought possible. It’s more than having a place to sleep at night or walking to school with Kyoutani as the sun rises, in order to go to morning practice. It always makes him stop when someone asks how his day was or when Kyoutani’s sister, Hanako, bombards him with stories from school. 

And then there’s Kyoutani himself. Watari comments on it before Shigeru notices himself, almost two weeks into them living together. There hadn’t been much disjointed movements between them before, but now it disappears entirely. Knowing where exactly Kyoutani is at any point in time is second nature after having to move around each other all the time in Kyoutani’s bedroom. Shigeru doesn’t even have to think about it. 

Honestly, they fight a lot less than Shigeru thought they would. 

They stumble upon their first training camp of the season, and the rest of the team is thoroughly shocked by how lighthearted their bickering sounds. Everyone except Watari, that is, because Watari sees it firsthand during lunch everyday. 

Then Hanako nearly knocks them over when she launches herself at them once they get back a week later. Shigeru has to take a moment, because for all that she’s only seven, there’s no difference between how she treats him and Kyoutani. At least, not after the first couple days Shigeru spent at their house.

“I saw the letter on the kitchen table,” Shigeru says, near the end of summer vacation. 

Kyoutani looks up from his phone. Outside of the height difference between the bed and the futon, they’ve almost merged together, which explains why Kyoutani’s on the futon. 

Sometimes, Shigeru wonders how Kyoutani’s parents trust them so much.

“It’s a scholarship,” he continues, because Kyoutani certainly won’t. “For a university in Tokyo.” 

“And?” Kyoutani asks, automatically glancing back down.

They haven’t talked about this before.

Even the topic of what happens when they graduate remains untouched. Shigeru hasn’t wanted to talk about it himself. He hardly knows what he wants to do with his life now that it hasn’t been decided for him, and thinking about it makes him a bit panicky. But that letter implies that maybe Kyoutani doesn’t feel the same way.

“Are you planning on going there?” 

Kyoutani snorts. “Fuck no.” 

“No?” 

He hesitates, this time. Shigeru might have taken it for avoidance before, but he knows now that Kyoutani is thinking things through as he sits up, his mouth set into a frown. “Not there.” 

“Do you have somewhere in mind?” Shigeru rolls his eyes as Kyoutani’s shoulders hunch. “I’m just asking because I want to know where I should start applying.” 

His back straightens, this time. “There’s… this school in Tokyo with a decent pre-veterinary program. The coach said they’re thinking about offering me a scholarship too, but I won’t know for a couple weeks.” 

“You want to be a vet?” 

“Yeah.”

To think that Kyoutani has plans like that. It shouldn’t be surprising, given how much time he spends studying. Both him and Watari were shocked when they found out the only reason Kyoutani isn’t at the top of his class is because he forgets to hand in assignments. 

But once Shigeru moves past the work, picturing it is easy. Kyoutani would make an amazing veterinarian with how much he loves animals, with how easily they take to him. And maybe some of his clients would be a bit scared off at first, but the moment they saw how much he cared about their pets, he would become a neighbourhood favourite. 

“It suits you,” Shigeru says, a grin slowly spreading across his face. 

Kyoutani stares up at him, his face unreadable. “You think so?” 

“Why the fuck would I say it if I didn’t believe it?” he retorts. “You’d be the best vet in Japan.” 

Shigeru barely catches a glimpse of Kyoutani surging upwards before rough lips awkwardly press against his own. The moment lasts for all of a second, because both of them tumble backwards, his back falling flat against the bed. 

His heart is beating a pattern into his ribcage as he stares up at Kyoutani. He wants more, Shigeru realizes, and not for the first time. But those thoughts always feel distant, something that might happen in the future, instead of right now. Except maybe now is better, because Shigeru can hardly focus with how desperately he wants to tug Kyoutani down. 

Kyoutani freezes, neither leaning down or moving away. “Fuck.” 

“You planning on leaving me hanging here, Ken-chan?” Shigeru asks, his voice strained. 

“Leave you hanging? The fuck is that supposed to mean?” 

Shigeru huffs. Whatever he did to get such a stupid soulmate is beyond him. “It means that I want you to kiss me again.” 

“Oh.” 

Kyoutani stares at him for a long time with the oddest look on his face. 

But when he leans down this time, Shigeru is prepared. His hand cups the back of Kyoutani’s neck, giving him enough leverage to kiss back. Every ounce of emotion that has been building up for months comes out now, insistent. All the frustration and want, all the confusion and relief, even that ball of warmth that appears whenever he so much as thinks about Kyoutani. The way Kyoutani’s eyes look darker when he pulls away is enough of answer to those feelings. As is their next kiss, rougher than the one before it.

Shigeru couldn’t hide those kisses if he tried. All it takes is going downstairs and sitting at the dinner table for Kyoutani’s mother to smile at them, knowingly. Then Watari bursts out laughing when they show up at school the next day, like he can tell that the distance between them is carefully manufactured instead of natural.

Spring High keeps getting closes though, leaving them without the time or energy to kiss or anything beyond that. Most days, Shigeru can hardly pull himself under the blankets, nevermind straddle Kyoutani like he wants to. 

His mind is still preoccupied with imagining that scene. Not daydreaming about those things is difficult when Kyoutani starts touching his hip more often, right where Shigeru guesses his Mark is. Watching him take the now-second year setter under his wing only makes that worse. Just like how Kyoutani talks about Hanako does. Like almost everything he does, for that matter.

.

Shigeru feels his phone vibrate long before he sees the text. It weighs on his hip throughout class, stealing his attention when he should be focusing on physics instead.

It’s lunch by the time he gets the opportunity to look at it. 

His phone lands on his desk with a loud clatter, the recipient’s name burned into his head. Watari glances back, his lunch in hand, and frowns. But Shigeru is too focused on his phone, on the message that doesn’t disappear when he touches the home button. 

“You okay?” Watari asks, hesitantly. 

His answer stays stuck in the back of his throat.

“Uh, forget that. You’re definitely not okay.” Watari glances towards the door. “We’re supposed to meet Kyoutani soon. I could… go get him?”

Shigeru manages a nod, despite everything.

Almost no time seems to go by between Watari all but running from the room and him coming back with Kyoutani in tow. Shigeru doesn’t even realize they arrived until Kyoutani touches his shoulder to draw his attention. 

“The fuck happened?” Kyoutani asks, gruffly. 

Words fade into smoke, but Kyoutani still needs to know, if not anyone else. His hands shake when he reaches for his phone, and he opens up the message with only slight hesitation. 

Kyoutani doesn’t waste any time in reading it over his shoulder, his grip tightening. “Fuck her,” he growls, almost vibrating with anger. “You don’t need to hear shit from her. We have the practice match with Karasuno on Saturday, anyways.” 

Shigeru had forgotten about that. 

With that simple request, he had forgotten almost everything else. 

“I’m sure you’ll win against Karasuno without me,” he says, faintly. “They aren’t that tough.” 

“You’re going to go,” Kyoutani states, rather than asks. 

He nods.

Kyoutani stares at him, but doesn’t voice the question on his mind, just as Shigeru knew he wouldn’t. The three of them stay in the classroom for the entire lunch period, Watari’s awkward attempts to start a conversation failing. For once, Shigeru can’t bring himself to complain about their math homework or discuss strategies for bringing down Karasuno. 

The tension doesn’t disappear by the start of practice. Shigeru can hardly stay focused on his serves or his setting, nevermind the rest of the team. Any other time and he would probably be amused by how Kyoutani and Watari attempt to fill in for him, but right now, he’s just grateful. 

It lasts through his walk home with Kyoutani, all through dinner and the time him and Kyoutani spend doing homework. It lasts until Shigeru stumbles back into Kyoutani’s bedroom, dressed for bed, just like Kyoutani. 

Only that Kyoutani isn’t lying on his bed like he normally is by the time Shigeru finishes his bath. His cell phone isn’t in his hand, nor is one of his manga volumes open on his lap. Having Kyoutani standing in the middle of the room and staring at him almost makes Shigeru stop in his tracks as he closes the door behind him, just like he does every night. 

“What are you doing?” Shigeru asks as he tosses his dirty clothes into the laundry basket at the foot of Kyoutani’s bed. 

“Nothing,” Kyoutani mutters.

He gives Kyoutani a suspicious look. “That doesn’t look like nothing-”

“Hit me.”

Shigeru turns to properly gape at Kyoutani. “Why the hell would I do something like that?” 

“You’re fucking upset! That’s what you always do when you’re upset.” 

“Of course I’m upset - wait, what?” Shigeru’s voice drops to a hiss, then he shakes his head. “I throw you around a couple times after practice and you form some weird image of me?” 

Kyoutani scowls. “What else am I supposed to do?” 

“Not this!” 

The following silence echoes through the room, leaving Shigeru to notice how badly he’s shaking. But Kyoutani’s shoulders are almost up around his ears and it makes him look small, even though he hit his last growth spurt a month ago. Resulting in him being nearly five centimetres taller than Shigeru. 

Shigeru slowly walks towards him. Kyoutani does nothing when he grabs his shirt, even though the last few times he did this, he ended up shouting in his face. Even if Shigeru wanted to, he would do that now. Kyoutani is far more than just someone to shout at when he’s upset. 

Instead, he drops his head to Kyoutani’s shoulder and slumps against him, just like he’s wanted to do all day. It takes a few, long moments for Kyoutani to wrap his arms around him, but then the tension finally fades from Shigeru. This is exactly what he needed. Now that he has it though, he doesn’t think he could manage to stop this. 

That doesn’t end up being an issue, because rather than let go, Kyoutani reaches over to turn off the light, then pulls him over to the bed. They take a couple moments to get comfortable, the blanket pulled over them. But exhaustion quickly pulls Shigeru under and he falls asleep with his head tucked into Kyoutani’s neck and heavy arms wrapped around him.

.

Shigeru arrives late to the cafe his mother suggested they meet at. It’s partially on purpose, but also partially because Hanako pouted the entire time he was getting ready to leave. Apparently when he didn’t leave with Kyoutani that morning, she thought it would be the perfect opportunity for the two of them to spend the entire day together.

But she is the last thing on his mind as Shigeru sits across from his mother. She has a coffee in front of her, but he doesn’t get up to buy one himself. 

The shorter this is, the better. 

“Shigeru,” she softly greets him. 

His gaze drops to the table. “Kaasan.” 

Neither of them mention that Shigeru is fifteen minutes late. 

“How… are you?” 

“Fine.” 

Shigeru could mention his Mark’s newly changed shape. Instead, he lets his hand drop to his hip, where the last edges of his Mark have smoothed away to the perfect outline of a dog, just as Kyoutani’s mother had spotted a lifetime ago.

“And your soulmate?” she asks, refusing to meet his eye. 

“He’s great.” More than great, because he got that scholarship to the university he wants to go to in Tokyo, he doesn’t add. “Is this your way of begging me to come back?” 

“You’re not living out on the street somewhere, are you?” 

“No.” 

Her following silence is an answer in itself, but Shigeru’s stomach sinks nonetheless. He doesn’t know what he expected out of this. He doesn’t know what he wanted out of this. 

She waits for a long moment before reaching into her purse and pulling out a thick envelope, sliding it across the table. “This is for your living expenses. And if you go to university, then your father and I will pay for it as well.” 

His father won’t notice the money go missing, is what she means. Shigeru stares at the envelope for a long time before he grabs it and stands up. He wishes he could shout at her with all of these people surrounding them. Her mortification at being embarrassed in public would be worth it, if not the actual shouting itself. 

“Is this all you wanted?” he asks, tersely. 

“I - yes, that was everything.” 

She continues sitting there as he walks out of the cafe without another word.

Shigeru takes the bus back to Kyoutani’s in a haze, his hands fiddling with the edges of the white envelope. It’s filled with bills, but it’s impossible to tell just how much money his mother stuffed inside, and he doesn’t dare open it.

He doesn’t want to know how much money she thought he could be bought off for. 

Kyoutani’s mother is out in the front garden when Shigeru gets back. It feels almost strange that the sun is still high in the sky, that his meeting at the cafe only took an hour, including travel time. She glances briefly over her shoulder and beams at him. The force of her expression nearly makes him stop, but it’s with new dedication that Shigeru walks over to her.

“Hey there, sweetie. How’d it go?” she asks, softening. 

She can probably see the stress written into his face. It wouldn’t be the first time she has read him like a book. 

Shigeru purposefully holds out the envelope. “I want you to have this.” 

“What-” 

“Money,” he says, cutting her off before the whole truth spills out, just like that. “I don’t want it.” 

That last sentence is packed with far more meaning than Shigeru intends it to, but he doesn’t pull the envelope back. Kyoutani’s mother slowly stands up and gingerly takes it from him. Her face goes grim as she weighs it in her hand, then slides her finger under the seal. 

She sighs at the sight of the money inside and looks back up at Shigeru. “How much is it?” 

“I don’t know. I don’t want to know,” he says, quietly. 

The envelope is carefully tucked away before she pulls him into a hug. Shigeru doesn’t tense, like he would have a few months ago, simply allowing himself to take the offered comfort and hug her back.

.

Spring High is almost upon them after that. Shigeru has been counting down the days since their loss to Karasuno at Inter High, but there’s a new sense of urgency at practice now.

Most of that urgency comes from losing the practice match with Karasuno. Each member of Seijou is affected by it in their own way, up to and including Shigeru himself. None of them are about to go down without a fight. But that also means they need to practice even more than they had been before, if that’s at all possible.

Kyoutani makes them jog home after practice every day, just to increase their stamina for that last match of Prefectures. Watari stresses the point of practicing receives, even if spikes and serves and setting all feels like a priority. Even Shigeru finds himself championing teamwork by bringing snacks for everyone during breaks, by being the one to resolve fights among their younger members. Particularly between Kunimi and the one first year wing spiker who looks up to Kindaichi with reverence in his eyes. 

Shigeru is going to miss them fiercely after he graduates. 

Then, just like that, Spring High begins and they’re stuck against Shiratorizawa in the second round. 

Maybe it’s overconfidence or Shiratorizawa’s ruthless streak, but the match is almost over before it begins. They don’t even make it into a third round with the former championship team.

Seijou might as well have not tried at all. 

Tears run down his cheeks before the shock sets in. His first instinct is to wrap an arm around Kyoutani as he angrily wipes his own tears away. Then he all but collapses, only held up by Shigeru and vice versa. 

Then they collect themselves and bow for the people in the stands. Shigeru loses track of how many hugs he gets from the rest of the team. There isn’t a member of the team that doesn’t reach out, though he thinks he remembers Kindaichi hugging him on three separate occasions. 

This time, when Seijou boards the bus to leave, Shigeru is with them. He’s there when they pull up in front of a ramen shop Irihata rented out for the afternoon. He’s there when they get back to the school, and he sees everyone else off before letting Kyoutani push him towards the parking lot. And Kyoutani’s father is waiting there for them, only offering a silent nod as they both crowd into the back seat. 

The drive back to the Kyoutanis’ can’t be more than ten or fifteen minutes, but Shigeru still nods off, slumped against Kyoutani.

.

By some miracle, Kyoutani doesn’t lose his scholarship. Or not a miracle, Mizoguchi corrects Irihata, because universities in Tokyo do recognize how difficult volleyball teams in Miyagi have it when there’s only one slot and multiple National-level teams.

Either way, they only have a couple months to prepare for final exams, to get ready to graduate, to look for an apartment in Tokyo. It’s overwhelming how quickly Shigeru’s daily routine changes from spending almost every waking moment at the gym to studying every chance he gets. Kyoutani shows him a few things here and there, because Shigeru has fallen behind more than he expected, but he also has his own exams to worry about. 

Surprisingly, a local university offers Shigeru a volleyball scholarship at the last minutes. He turns it down almost immediately. Even if he didn’t plan on moving to Tokyo with Kyoutani, he doesn’t think he’ll continue playing volleyball. 

Shigeru isn’t Oikawa. 

His future aspirations don’t really fall towards becoming a professional volleyball player, like he once thought they did. 

A couple long conversations with his homeroom teacher help him pick out a university on the conditions of passing the entrance exam. It isn’t anything more than a general studies program, but it gives him plenty of room to figure things out. Much more time than Shigeru thought he would have. 

They celebrate with cake when Shigeru and Kyoutani’s marks come back. The laughter and teasing leaves Shigeru breathless with joy, and no one says a word when he reaches over to slot his fingers between Kyoutani’s. 

“I can’t believe we graduated,” Shigeru says at their graduation ceremony, a couple weeks later.

Kyoutani doesn’t seem to react, focused on something beyond Shigeru’s perception. 

Shigeru rolls his eyes, a smile hiding in the corner of his mouth. “Oi, Kyoutani, are you even paying attention?” 

“You don’t have to call me that, you know,” Kyoutani says, snapping back to attention. 

“Call you what?” 

“Kyoutani.” 

Heat gathers in Shigeru’s cheeks, and he spares a quick glance over his shoulder. His own parents never showed up, but the Kyoutanis got pulled into a conversation with Watari’s parents sometime in the past few minutes. “What do you want me to call you then? Ken-chan?”

“Kentarou,” he says, in that same all-too-honest tone. 

Shigeru inhales sharply. “Only if you call me Shigeru.” 

“Fine.” 

“Alright then.”

Kentarou watches him from the corner of his eye. “Shigeru.” 

“Yes, Ken-chan?”

The moment shatters as Kentarou snorts, hiding a smirk. “Fuck you.” 

“Only if you ask nicely, Kentarou,” Shigeru says, smoothly, then breaks out into a laugh when Kentarou’s face turns a vibrant red.


	5. budding

“Don’t forget to call!” 

Shigeru blinks down at Hanako, her face set into a stubborn scowl, and smiles. “Of course. I’ll make sure that Ken-chan remembers to-”

“Not _just_ Ken-chan. Both of you have to phone me at least once a week. No, twice a week!” Hanako cuts in, sharply. 

Laughter rings around them as Shigeru stands there with his mouth open, uncertain of just how to respond. Kentarou’s mother takes that as her chance to step forward, still laughing while she places her hand on his shoulder. Her grin shines brighter than the rest of them combined. But she’s also been more excited about this than even him and Kentarou have. 

“She does have a point, Shi-chan,” she says, lightly. 

Hanako huffs loudly, crossing her arms in front of her chest. “See?” 

“I’ll make sure to phone too then,” Shigeru finally gives in. “I mean, I would have been there with him, anyways. But I guess I’ll just… talk to you too?” 

“You better.” 

Her intense stare stays focused on him for a few long moments before she surges forward, wrapping her arms around his waist. Then Hanako is gone again, having ran back into the apartment. The loud shout that follows confirms his suspicions that she just went back inside to bother Kentarou one last time. This entire road trip has been the last time, of course, and Hanako has had absolutely no problems with reminding them of that every chance she’s had.

Shigeru turns towards Kentarou’s mother, opening his mouth to thank her one last time. Not that she gives him the opportunity as she pulls him into a hug even tighter than the one her daughter gave him. 

“You better listen to your sister-in-law, Shi-chan,” Kentarou’s mother informs him, lightly. “I’m sure she would have no problems coming down just to remind you.” 

“And you would be the one bringing her here,” Shigeru says, holding back a laugh. 

“Of course.” 

She lets go of him after a long moment and smiles, more fondly than Shigeru ever could have imagined. Maybe it’s because he didn’t deny Hanako the title of sister-in-law. Maybe it’s because him and Kentarou are finally moving out on their own. All Shigeru knows for certain is that seeing her look at him like that makes him feel loved, more than anything else. 

The rest of the Kyoutani family emerges from the depths of the apartment, Hanako talking more than enough for all three of them. The goodbyes after that last for longer than they probably should. Shigeru gets through one hug with Kentarou’s father before Hanako wants another, then Kentarou’s mother almost starts to cry as the reality of them moving out sets in. Eventually they leave though, assuring him and Kentarou that they’ll phone once they make it back home. 

Shigeru and Kentarou watch them get into the car and drive out of the parking lot, waving through the car window as they do. It feels odd, almost like they’re being left behind. 

Only they aren’t simply left behind. Not that it stops the apartment from being absolutely silent when they go inside. Eight months of living with the Kyoutani family made him forget what an empty house sounds like beyond the few times he was there alone. Having to adjust to people constantly being around feels so distant now. 

Arms wrap around his waist, warmth pressed against him in the form of Kentarou. Shigeru slowly leans back into the hold as they stand in the middle of the small apartment. The silence no longer as feels as unnerving as it had. It can’t when he has Kentarou here with him. 

“Hey,” Kentarou murmurs, lips ghosting over Shigeru’s neck. 

A smile spreads across his face, Shigeru making no effort to hold it back. “Hey, yourself.” 

“We’re in our own place.” 

Shigeru takes a slow look around their apartment. 

Just that one comment makes it look different. The place is small by all standards, but the kitchen and living space feel more cozy than cramped now. Their furniture may be a bit on the lower end, but it’s more than enough for the two of them. For the two of them, it’s just right. 

This is different from just sleeping in the same room as Kentarou, Shigeru realizes, his skin heating up. There had been a distance between them in Kentarou’s home. Not a physical distance, because all Shigeru ever needed to do to see Kentarou was look over or sit up, but he had always been aware of where they were. Just the fear of being overheard stopped them from exchanging more than a few kisses. 

No parents or siblings can overhear them here. And the bed, stuffed into the sole bedroom, is just big enough for two people, rather than one. Only their landlord has an extra key, and they wouldn’t barge in without warning. For all intents and purposes, they’re entirely alone. 

His smile grows until his cheeks start to hurt, and he turns around in Kentarou’s hold. A smile is turned back on him, but Kentarou’s mouth is soft, the knot between his eyebrows entirely smoothed away. This is already so much more than what Kentarou normally shows him, and the warmth tucked away in his chest can only grow. Which it does, spurred on by this side of Kentarou meant only for Shigeru. 

“Ours,” Shigeru softly repeats. “And only ours.” 

“Only-” 

Kentarou cuts himself off, that one word coming out as a strangled mess while a bright flush travels across his cheeks. 

Shigeru laughs and reaches up, the heat of Kentarou’s cheeks warming his hands. “Only ours. Meaning we’re the only ones here. Well, us and our brand new bed in a bedroom where neither of us has to sleep on the floor.”

The noise that Kentarou makes is mostly gibberish, his head dropping forward as he mutters something about Shigeru being the death of him. And an asshole, but Shigeru ignores that in favour of paying attention to the nearly non-existent distance between them. At least Kentarou hadn’t thought too much about what this means for them. It would be a bit embarrassing if Shigeru were the only one unaware during the last month of apartment hunting. 

One of them moves first. 

Which one fades from his memory as Shigeru feels warm breath against his lips, then the chapped skin that always marks his kisses with Kentarou. Want drowns out all else, as it so often does. 

This kiss starts out soft, more acknowledgement than anything else. Acknowledgement of who they are to each other, acknowledgement of the life they’re starting together, it all means the same thing to Shigeru. 

Then he shifts his weight forward and a groan echoes through the small apartment. Kentarou pulls away, but it takes Shigeru a long moment to realize that who it came from. Not from him, even though heat anxiously rests on top of his skin, but from Kentarou. A wide grin spreads across his face as he surges forward, any doubt between them swallowed by yet another kiss, this one more desperate than the last. 

Kentarou responds in kind, tightening his grip on Shigeru’s waist until Shigeru can tell just how eager he is to continue this. The kiss ends abruptly, their faces dark with desire. Mutual want echoes between them, making Kentarou press feather-light kisses to the corner of his mouth, his jaw, down to his neck. Feather-light turns open-mouthed, drawing more out of Shigeru than he thought possible. 

Pulling Kentarou towards the bedroom is difficult. 

Both in the sense that Shigeru wants him as quickly as possible and that moving is a struggle when he wants so badly.

.

Shigeru stops while he’s getting dressed the next morning, his fingers tracing the Mark along his hip. Its lines have been smoothed out for a few months, but now there seems to be something more to it. Faint lines have been added inside the outline, forming what looks to be the details of a dog’s nose, a reminder of how much he cares.

Neither of them have actually talked about their Marks before, not even a brief acknowledgement that his Mark responds to Kentarou and vice versa. His cheeks start to burn at the vague memory of the Mark along Kentarou’s right hip. Maybe if they hadn’t been in such a rush yesterday, he would know what it is. 

Kentarou chooses that exact moment to roll over, his eyes slowly opening. Shigeru can tell when he registers what he’s looking at, because his own cheeks start to flush and he abruptly rolls back over. Nothing is said while Shigeru pulls up his pants and tucks in shirt, not beyond the snickering that he can’t quite hold back. Not that he tries. 

Leaving their Marks unspoken is fine with Shigeru. Maybe most soulmates would talk about them, at least to the point of discussing changes in their Marks. But those are other people and this is them. 

His relationship with Kentarou isn’t about to change, whether they talk about it or not.

They fall into their daily routines with relative ease. Classes aren’t set to start until a whole week after they move in, giving them just enough time to discover the area. Not much changes when classes do start either, not beyond going to class and having to do classwork. 

Shigeru wakes up most days to the smell of breakfast cooking, sometimes with Kentarou already eating at the table. Other times, there’s a sticky note on the fridge saying good morning, usually when Kentarou has volleyball practice or a morning class. Then he eats and gets ready for class or his part time job. 

By the time Shigeru gets home, Kentarou usually has half of his textbooks covering the kitchen table, slumped overtop of them in a heap. His program hasn’t given him a pinch of mercy. Not that it stops Shigeru from forcing him to take a break, whether it’s a nap on the couch together or talking quietly about whatever text Hanako sent them. Both of them are constantly busy, but it works. 

“You know, we’ve been sitting together all term, and I still know next to nothing about you, Yahaba,” his classmate comments one afternoon. 

Shigeru quickly presses send before looking up. Matsumoto is watching him carefully, but he couldn’t care less if she caught a glimpse of the picture he just sent Kentarou. The fluffy dog he passed on his way to class will make Kentarou’s day. 

“I could say the same about you, Matsumoto,” he says, lightly. 

She huffs pointedly. “Only because you never join us after class.” 

“I’m sorry that I want to go home?”

“And you never talk to anyone unless they talk to you first.” 

Shigeru narrows his eyes, his mouth flattening. “Where exactly are you going with this?” 

“All you do is sit here during the breaks and text some mysterious stranger! I don’t even know what you’re majoring in,” she finishes with a dramatic flourish, slumping over the table they’ve been sharing since the beginning of term.

“General studies, right now,” Shigeru offers. “I’ll probably pick something later, but I’m still figuring things out.” 

Matsumoto groans, but doesn’t even lift her head to glare at him. “See?” 

“No?”

“Now I know you’re in general studies, but that doesn’t tell me anything about you! Don’t they offer general studies programs back in Miyagi?” 

His phone vibrates, almost pointedly.

Matsumoto slowly lifts her head to stare at it, his cheeks slowly starting to heat as he lets it drop to the table. Never did they bother to explain what they were to each other back at Aoba Jousai. There hadn’t been a point. Only the volleyball team would have cared, and most everyone had figured it out for themselves by the time graduation came around. 

Another message comes through. It could only be an excited reply to the picture, but a wide grin spreads across Matsumoto’s face as she slowly sits up again. Kentarou’s timing couldn’t get any worse, because at least two more messages come in after that. And his phone just has to light up with the name “Ken-chan” each time. 

“So,” Matsumoto starts.

Shigeru groans. “No.” 

“Ken-chan.” 

“I want nothing to do with this conversation.” 

“Really? Because Ken-chan certainly wants to have a conversation with you.”   
Shigeru glances back down at his phone, despite himself. The screen has gone dark again, leaving only the green blinking light in the top corner. He jumps as it vibrates one last time, Matsumoto breaking out into a fresh batch of snickers beside him. 

“I’d hope he wants to talk to me,” Shigeru mutters, finally grabbing the phone and shoving it into his pocket. Kentarou will understand if he waits until after class to respond. “After all, he’s my-” 

The word catches in the back of his throat. 

Matsumoto leans back in her chair, eyeing him for a long moment before she nods to herself. “He’s your soulmate.” 

Shigeru sputters through a few incomprehensible syllables, none of them coming out the way he wants them to. “How did you - I mean, he is - of course he is! But I haven’t told anyone.” 

“You get this cheesy look on your face sometimes. Half the class has already figured it out, and the other half just doesn’t know you.” She laughs as his energy immediately begins to fade. “Don’t worry about it so much. I’m just curious as to what sort of person is meant for you.” 

A low breath leaves him as he attempts to regain himself. Talking about Kentarou should be fine. He always wants to talk about Kentarou anyways. 

“Yahaba?”

He waves her off, offering a smile. “Kyoutani Kentarou, that’s who.” 

“Kyoutani-kun, huh?” 

“Yeah. We met back in our first year of high school.” The words feel odd coming out of him, like Shigeru needs to add a lengthy explanation as to why they didn’t talk until second year. But Matsumoto doesn’t know that. “Actually,” he says, instead, “I thought he was some sort of thug the first time I saw him. Half the school must have thought he was constantly getting into fights, when in reality, he kept trying to help strays. And now he’s working to become a vet.” 

“A vet? That is quite the lofty goal.” Matsumoto’s gaze flickers towards the door as their professor comes back from the break, coffee in hand. “I can see why you’d be soulmates with a guy like that.” 

Shigeru pauses, the corner of his mouth twisting down. “Really?” 

“Of course.” 

The professor starts talking again before Shigeru gets the opportunity to ask why. And by the time class ends, his head is so hazy with lecture material that he forgets to ask until he’s already halfway home. 

But the sentiment sticks with him. At the end of the day, Shigeru is just a directionless university student, while Kentarou knows exactly what he’s working towards. It feels a bit like the image he got when Kentarou first told him about wanting to become a veterinarian. All he could think of for days was Kentarou owning his own veterinary practice and struggling to deal with pet owners.  
Shigeru will be in that future. 

What he needs to do is figure out how he fits in.

.

The rest of the term passes by in the blink of an eye. One minute, Shigeru is cramming for his exams and the next, he’s starting his readings for second term.

Summer break is honestly the best part. Shigeru still has his part time job at the grocery store to go to, but for a month and a half, he gets to come home to Kentarou either asleep on the couch or already cooking dinner for them. It even gives him them the opportunity to go back to Miyagi and visit Aoba Jousai. Kindaichi and Kunimi are keeping the team intact with surprising resilience, given that Karasuno is their main rival. 

Leaving doesn’t feel quite so bittersweet this time around, though. And Kentarou goes back to his own practices with a renewed determination that Shigeru doesn’t expect him to explain. 

Neither of them suggest going back to Aoba Jousai when winter break rolls around. 

Not that it stops Watari from phoning Shigeru up just a few weeks later. Nor does it stop Shigeru from agreeing to meet up with him for the first time in almost a year. 

“Dude, I can’t believe we’re almost through our first year of university,” Watari says, awe threaded through his voice. 

Shigeru glances across the booth and snorts. “I don’t know what sort of schedule you have, but I might as well be done.” 

Watari groans, slumping back in his seat. “Do you have to keep bringing that up?” 

“The pained look on your face is refreshing, so yes.” 

“I can’t believe people were surprised that you turned out to be the harshest captain Seijou has ever seen,” Watari complains. He takes a piece of pork off the barbeque, before continuing with his mouth full, “Just because all they saw during first and second year was your nice side. Then they had the audacity to complain about how much work you put them through!” 

His smile widens, easily turning brittle. “Where are you going with this, Watari?” 

“It wasn’t fair! I had to put up with your sadism for all of high school, not just our last year. Honestly, how does Kyoutani even survive living with you? Unless-” 

Shigeru delivers a sharp kick beneath the table, entirely unrepentant when the hint of a smirk Watari had started to give him shatters into a pained grimace. It may only be proving Watari’s point, but his sex life with Kentarou is the last thing they need to discuss. 

This is nice though, Shigeru supposes. Seeing Watari is a different sort of nostalgia than going back to visit the volleyball team. A bit less like practice and matches and the loss that came with all that, and more like going over strategies with Watari and Kentarou during lunch.

Except Kentarou is back at home, pouring over his notes in preparation for his exams, instead of sitting next to him. If Shigeru could have pulled him away for a few hours without feeling guilty, he would have. It would be nice if the three of them could do this again sometime, whenever Watari is back in Tokyo again. 

“Kentarou doesn’t have to _put up_ with anything,” Shigeru still mutters, casting an overly offended glower in Watari’s direction. “Particularly not this sadistic tendency that you’ve gone and made up.” 

Watari snorts, then pauses. “Kentarou? When did that happen?” 

“Uh… about a year ago now, I think.” 

Watari stares at him for a long while, before smiling and shaking his head. “Whatever. Either way, it’s good for him. He deserves that much.” 

“And when exactly did you start caring about what Ken-chan deserves?” Shigeru asks, scepticism seeping through. 

“Hey!” 

“I’m just pointing out that the two of you weren’t that close in high school.” 

Watari pouts at him, then the bravado starts to strip away. He grabs another piece of meat while he thinks it over, his expression quickly growing complicated. 

That Watari seems prepared to give him a serious answer is almost more confusing than the initial comment. Last Shigeru checked, Watari and Kentarou have only ever interacted while he was around, outside of the occasional study session or lunch period. No amount of trying to remember their third year tells him any differently either. 

“It probably happened sometime after our last Inter High competition,” Watari finally admits. 

“Inter High? But-” 

“I know, I know.” Watari groans, but it does nothing to stop the pang of betrayal Shigeru feels. What happened after the competition is the one thing they never got around to talking about. “But you have to hear me out on this one.” 

Shigeru opens his mouth to fire out a quick rejection, then hesitates. “You have five seconds.” 

“Five - alright, first of all, I wish you had seen him after that match. As in, we left to board the bus and get some food, and Kyoutani almost started running after you instead. I can’t believe he managed to hold that anger in until we got to the restaurant, actually.” 

“What?” 

“Picture this: Kyoutani from - what, almost two years ago? - in that growly mood of his and just about ready to rip someone’s head off. Our kouhai were terrified. Then someone, probably Kindaichi, said something about how it would have been better if you were there, and he just started going off about how much of a dick your dad was.” Watari hides a grin, moments from laughing. “I’d never heard him say so much at once.” 

Two years ago - that had to have been long before Shigeru left his parent’s place. 

His world briefly grinds to a stop. That must have been before he had told Kentarou anything about his father, except maybe something about that awkward visit to the office. Definitely nothing about some of the shittier things his father has tried. 

And yet, Shigeru has always wondered why no one else tried to ask him why he left right after the match, without so much as a word to anyone. A sharp exhale escapes before he can stop it, bordering on a laugh. With each passing moment, it’s easier to imagine the rest of Seijou staring at Kentarou with wide eyes as he ranted and raved about why Shigeru should have been there. He probably didn’t realize what he was doing until it was too late either. 

Shigeru wishes he could have seen the bright shade of red Kentarou’s ears must have turned at the exact moment he realized what he was doing. 

“Really?” he asks, just to be certain.

Watari grins at him. “Really. It was amazing. Everyone was completely blown away.” 

Shigeru goes home that night with a wide smile, hiding a soft laugh when he finds Kentarou passed out at the table. This Kentarou - the one with his face smushed into his notes - is the same Kentarou who unknowingly defended him in front of their entire high school volleyball team. And he didn’t even realize he was doing it at the time. 

Without Kentarou, he would be somewhere else entirely right now. Going to university, sure, but he’d be stuck in some business program meant to prepare him for working at his father’s company. Maybe Shigeru wouldn’t hate himself yet, but he’d hate everyone around him. He’d never let himself feel happy about what he was doing with his life. After all, the Kyoutanis were the ones who taught him to feel satisfied with himself and what he has.

Shigeru stands in the entranceway for a long time, just staring. So much has changed these last two years, beyond just the bleached sections of Kentarou’s finally growing out. And regardless of any regrets, he’s satisfied with what he’s done so far. 

Kentarou stirs slightly, and Shigeru finally walks over to touch his shoulder. It takes a few moments to get Kentarou to look up at him, the tension between his eyebrows fading away when he does. Yet another thing that has changed for the better. Shigeru would never complain about how at peace Kentarou appears when he sees him. Neither would he change it for anything in the world. 

“Are you planning on staying out here all night?” Shigeru gently teases him.

Kentarou groans and turns away again. “Yeah. More fucking studying to do.”

“Nope. Not happening.” Shigeru sneaks an arm around him, a smile spreading across his face when Kentarou slumps against him without protest. “I prefer my soulmate alive and well, thanks, rather than dead in a ditch somewhere.” 

He hears Kentarou inhale sharply before he makes the connection. And then Kentarou jerks backwards, sending both of them tumbling to the ground in a heap of limbs. 

“Shit,” Kentarou breathes out.   
His eyebrow rises as he stares up at Kentarou, making his silent question clear. This is not the first time they’ve ended up like this. This isn’t even the first time this week Shigeru has unexpectedly found Kentarou hovering above him with a complicated emotion painted across his face. But not usually like this. 

Not when Kentarou’s hands are shaking as they grip the thin fabric of Shigeru’s shirt. Not when Kentarou looks quite so fragile, even with the advantages of weight and height and Shigeru giving into whatever he wants. This is probably how Kentarou felt every time Shigeru attacked him in high school, he realizes, something soft unfurling in his chest. If it means helping Kentarou, he’ll do almost anything.

“Shit,” Kentarou repeats, his head dropping forward to hide his gaze from sight. “Never fucking thought I’d hear you say that.” 

The pieces finally fall together, and Shigeru laughs, breathily. “Guess I was wrong when I thought it didn’t need to be pointed out then.” 

“Fuck you.” 

“If we do that, you’ll spend all morning complaining that you slept in.” 

“Would not.” 

“Do I need to bring up what happened a couple weeks ago?” 

“That was a couple weeks ago,” Kentarou says, bordering between sharp and desperate. “Right now, you just called me your-” 

“Soulmate?” 

Kentarou surges forwards, unable to hold back for even a moment longer, and Shigeru grins into the sloppy kiss. He should have called Kentarou his soulmate a long time ago.

.

Their exams go by without much of a problem. A couple of the marks Shigeru gets back aren’t quite what he expected them to be, but a little room for improvement won’t change much.

And that’s nothing compared to the shocked relief when Kentarou finally gets all of his grades back, every moment of his studying having paid off. It gives them an excuse to go up to Miyagi for a week of their spring break as well. Just seven days of lounging around the Kyoutani house, going for walks through the town and teasing Hanako when they can. They even go out for dinner with Watari one night, the comfortable blanket of nostalgia covering them. 

Having to go back to prepare for the start of their second year is almost a shame. Not entirely, because a week at the Kyoutani home is also a week more or less abstaining from their usual routine, and the extra people around drain at his energy. 

That is if their usual routine is Shigeru periodically whispering the word soulmate into Kentarou’s ear, just to see his eyes darken and his breath catch. Which usually leads to them stumbling towards the bedroom, even if Kentarou sometimes has to stop a few minutes in because of the time. That happens nearly a dozen times during the first month of their second year. Not because their schedule are particularly incompatible this year, but because Shigeru gets a rush everytime he says it. 

“I still don’t understand why we can’t stay here,” Kentarou mutters as he finally crawls out of the bathroom. 

Shigeru rolls his eyes. “You just finished your exams. We should celebrate.” 

“Midterms. You fucking know that my exams aren’t until after the break, dick,” he says. “Besides, we can celebrate here.” 

Shigeru pushes himself up, his arms almost giving out beneath him once he sees Kentarou standing in front of him. 

No shirt should be allowed to fit so tightly around Kentarou’s shoulder. Shigeru has to swallow as his gaze lingers on the newly packed-on muscle, the clear answer to why the shirt didn’t fit like this six months ago. The muscles have been obvious, of course. He’s put his fair time into appreciating them. 

That isn’t quite the same as seeing Kentarou like this. His mouth goes dry as Kentarou stands up a bit taller, managing to show off his muscles even more than before. Maybe staying behind to properly appreciate Kentarou is the best way to celebrate, after all. They don’t have to leave their apartment until tomorrow, at least, maybe even the day after that. It would most certainly be worth it. 

Kentarou catches his gaze, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards. “Who the fuck says we have to go out to celebrate again?” 

“Matsumoto,” Shigeru admits, the name coming out strangled. “She went and made reservations for us. But now I’m stuck between a rock and a hard place.” 

“Really.” 

“Yeah. I want to show off my soulmate who just nailed all of his exams and got a recommendation for one of the best veterinary schools in the country. But I also want to tie him to my bed and not let him leave until morning.” 

“Sounds like more of a present for you than him.” 

“It would be for both of us.” 

Kentarou snorts, but there’s the faintest hint of a smile as he heads towards the front door. It takes everything Shigeru has to get off the bed and follow him, rather than drag him back into the bedroom. 

But Matsumoto went through quite the effort to get them these reservations and both of them know it. Shigeru sighs and intertwines their fingers as they start down the street instead, Kentarou squeezing back appreciatively. They’ve been doing more things like this lately. Little things that didn’t come when Shigeru moved into the Kyoutani household, when they moved into their own place. 

Things like holding Kentarou’s hand as they’re walking down the street or sharing horrible inside jokes at the most inopportune times. Things like going on real dates, instead of sitting around doing nothing. And Shigeru loves this. He loves recognizing people who pass them by, loves knowing that they know about him and Kentarou. 

“I still can’t believe that you’re transferring next year,” Shigeru admits, softly. 

“Yeah.” 

His response promptly shrivels up and he glances over at Kentarou with narrowed eyes. He recognizes that expression, the one that speaks of a thousand more worries than it should. “You’re not thinking about what will happen to me when you transfer again, are you?” 

“So what if I am?” Kentarou mutters.

“Because I’m obviously going with you! All I’m taking here is general studies,” he says, matter of factly. “I can do that at any university, so long as my grades stay high enough to transfer.” 

“They are.” 

“Thanks for the vote of confidence. But you’re the one with the big plans, so it only makes sense that I follow you.”

Kentarou hesitates, slowing down even though there’s only another couple blocks until the restaurant. He hesitates, because he always hesitates when he doesn’t know how Shigeru will react to something. “I never really understood that,” he says, quietly. 

Shigeru softens. “What is there to not understand?” 

“You not having big plans. Back when we first met, you always seemed like the type of person who had their entire life planned out.” 

The sharp snort that follows comes unwanted, but Shigeru continues. “And I’d say I’ve changed a lot since our first year of high school, wouldn’t you? Besides, I’ll figure something out. It’s just taking me a bit longer than you, you big shot veterinary student.” 

“You’ve thought about it, then.” 

“Of course. It’s just whenever I think about what I want in the future, all I can think about is you with your own veterinary practice. You’re going to be amazing with everyone’s pets, but the moment you have to-” 

Shigeru stops. 

“I can talk to people when I have to,” Kentarou says, his voice low. 

“I know you can.”

The bits and pieces of his realization seep throughout dinner, a plan forming before Shigeru can even put it into words. Kentarou is sleeping when it comes together, his face buried into the pillow beside Shigeru’s.

Shigeru steals a smile, his hand moving over to Kentarou’s hip as he lies in the dark. The answer of what he should do with his life has been staring him in the face for so long now. It might as well have been as clearly written in front of him as that Mark is. 

Only that Mark, the one that responds to him and him alone, is what made any of this possible. It’s a vanilla lily, as Kentarou admitted to him months ago, a flush clear across his cheeks and all the way up to his ears. And now it’s a vanilla lily with an extra bud forming along the stem, one that Shigeru has probably spent the better part of a day staring at.

.

“Yahaba Shigeru, correct?”

Shigeru nods at his academic advisor, his back straight against the chair. She takes that moment to reach for his transcript on the desk in front of her and looks through it with a mostly disinterested stare. 

It only takes a few moments before she sets it aside. Apparently everything she needs to know about him can be learned by a few seconds of glancing at his transcript. Shigeru doesn’t let it bother him though, his face set with his determination. His direction has already been chosen, regardless of what those few pieces of paper say about him. 

“I assume you’re here because you’ve decided on a more focused major?” she asks him.

Shigeru hesitates, then shakes his head. “Yes… and no.” 

“Oh?” 

“Actually, I want your opinion on communications programs in Hokkaido. It’s looks like I’ll be moving there at the end of the year, and that’s the direction I’ve decided to go in.”


	6. blooming

His eyes squeeze shut to combat the sudden bright light from overhead. Black dots still fill his vision though, appearing and disappearing the more he thinks about them. It’s disorientating enough that turning around to scowl at Kentarou is impossible. 

Not that it stops Kentarou from laughing, a light chuckle filling the room. “I found the light switch.” 

“Really?” Shigeru asks, his voice filled to the brim with sarcasm. “And here I thought we might have found the one place with shitty automatic lights.” 

“I could have let you stumble around in the dark.” 

“And maybe I would have liked that.” 

Shigeru slowly opens his eyes, just catching the amused exasperation flash across Kentarou’s face. Then the light becomes too much again, and he has to squint away the dots in his vision. Not that it stops him from noticing Kentarou stepping inside, his shoulders purposely pulled back. 

Or the rest of the office space, for that matter. Shigeru carefully looks around as his eyes gradually adjust to the light and finds himself nodding along to its contents. Most of the potential places they’ve come across so far have been smaller, or at least, stuffed full of furniture. But this place is a new building, theirs to do what they want with. If they decide to take it, that is. 

The blank walls and empty spaces give him the room to imagine what he would put there. They would put a few pictures up on the walls, of course, but maybe leave some of it blank for now. Then later, they might be able to fill the extra space with pictures of the pets that come through their office, instead of with stock photos. That would make it feel a bit more personable. And Shigeru wants that. He wants this place to feel like a second home with him behind the counter and Kentarou in the examination room. 

This could be that, with a bit of work.

Shigeru glances over his shoulder, opening his mouth to say something. The words leave him once he sees Kentarou standing there. 

The small smile shouldn’t catch him off-guard, shouldn’t make the floor shift beneath his feet after being together for the better part of a decade. But it does, and there’s little Shigeru can do to change it.

There’s nothing he would do to stop it, and he lets his feet carry him over to the other side of the room. Kentarou slowly blinks down at him as he cups those cheeks in his hands, the baby fat long since gone. The smile fades, but Shigeru is just as easily captivated by his long eyelashes. Leaning up into a kiss is second nature, as is the familiar warmth that follows. 

Their realtor coughs from the doorway, and Shigeru pulls back with a soft laugh. “So, what do you think so far?” 

Kentarou’s hands gravitate towards his waist, enough to tell Shigeru what exactly they would be doing if they were alone right now. For now, Kentarou just leans back down for a quick peck. “It’s perfect.” 

“Really?” Shigeru says dryly, the twist in the corner of his lips giving him away. “We could always look at another place if you don’t like this one.” 

Kentarou pulls back, his eyes narrowing. “The fuck. Do you not know what perfect means or something?” 

“I do.” His attempt at holding back a snicker fails as he grins upwards. “Can’t say I’ve come across it in real life though, so who knows if I would recognize it here.” 

A deep flush travels from Kentarou’s cheeks to his ears. If he isn’t thinking about how he teased Shigeru about calling his blowjob skills perfect last night, then Shigeru will happily eat his shoe. 

Only Kentarou hasn’t given into his teasing for years now. Shigeru yelps loudly at the abrupt pain of Kentarou pinching his side and stumbles back. That gives Kentarou enough of an opportunity to flee further into the office, his shoulders pulled tight in his embarrassment. Shigeru watches him until he disappears into the back room, absentmindedly rubbing at his side as the pain fades back into amusement. 

After being together for this long, Shigeru really should have expected some retaliation for his teasing. Or rather, he did expect it. But seeing how flustered Kentarou gets over things like that never fails to make him smile. 

Resisting the urge to follow Kentarou into that back room to celebrate seeing their dreams come into being is just as difficult as he expected it to be, though. Only the realtor still standing just inside the room stops him. Neither of them want to screw this up now. Not after the years of work they’ve put into getting their respective degrees and gaining some experience. 

Communications degrees or veterinarian school, both of them have put a lot of work into this. Difficult bosses have worn them both down, along with shitty hours and what sometimes felt like months without properly seeing each other. Starting up their own veterinary practice had just been a matter of time.

Not that the time really matters. 

Now or in thirty years, Shigeru would be just as overjoyed to see this become a reality. That Kentarou would have ended up being arrested for murder if he spent another week at that other practice is just a small detail. Eventually, they would have called him in the middle of the night to come in for an emergency, and it would have just been an older dog with an upset stomach. Probably on one of their date nights, as well. 

Kentarou steps back into sight, his gaze focused somewhere over Shigeru’s shoulder. “Thought you said there was only three rooms in here.” 

“Three?” The realtor steps inside and flips through a couple papers, much more animated now that he has something to do. “If I said that, I’m sorry. There should be four, according to the plans.” 

“Shigeru.” 

He rolls his eyes, even as a smile twitches at his lips. “Does that affect the rent?” 

“No. The price I told you on the way over is still the same,” the realtor says, cautiously. 

“Then I don’t see what the problem is. If nothing else, we can use it as storage or maybe another examination room. We’ll figure it out.” 

Kentarou nods, easily. “We will.” 

“Does that mean you two want to apply then?” 

They exchange a long look. Forgetting the number of hours they’ve poured into looking for the perfect place is next to impossible, far beyond just the handful of tours they’ve gone on this past month. But Shigeru knows what the slight lift of Kentarou’s chin means, even without the words to confirm it.

“We do,” comes their firm decision.

.

Watching the practice come together after they sign the lease is somewhat like building their own home in bits and pieces.

The equipment is the first to arrive, although they may as well have bartered with their lives in order to pay for it. Each piece of equipment fits easily into the back rooms, filling them in preparation for opening. The furniture comes a bit later, but that is what makes the place finally look a bit more comfortable. A bit more like a place of their own. 

Decorations are what really change it from a random office to their veterinary practice, though. A picture of the two of them at the front desk, a picture of the Kyoutani family dog pinned to a wall. The carefully compiled bookshelf, filled with everything about pet care that they could find. An empty filing cabinet, just waiting to hold their patients’ information. 

All of it fits, in its own way. 

Two months before opening turns into one, then into three weeks, into a couple days. Shigeru makes full use of his expertise during this time, submitting ads to the local newspaper and around the neighbourhood. It’s a pleasant surprise when a couple people stop by to take a look. What both of them have been worried about the most is building a loyal group of clientele. 

Shigeru goes down to the practice the day before their opening date, just to take a look. Everything has been ready almost all week now, because they thought it would take longer to organize it all, because half of their time has been spent here, bickering over just where they want things. 

He unlocks the front door with a smile hidden on his face. One more day, then him and Kentarou come down to open this place up officially. Then their goal of owning their own practice will be achieved, regardless of everything else. Maybe they’ll move into an actual house in a couple years, finally abandoning the run-down apartment they’ve been stuck in since moving back to Miyagi. And maybe Shigeru will ask that little question that’s been on his mind recently. 

Perfect isn’t his expectation - him and Kentarou fight too often for that, even if he enjoys the moment a couple hours of passive aggressive silence breaks into a shouting match, but this is as close as it could get. If pressed, Shigeru wouldn’t be able to come up with a single thing he would change. 

Then he opens the door and something falls to the ground. 

Shigeru blinks and stares.

The small, white envelope stays right where it is. His name is on the front in careful handwriting, unchanging, no matter how long he stares. The handwriting is too formal and exact, like whoever wrote it learned how to write from studying typed font. 

He slowly crouches down to pick it up, turning it over in his hands. This is the first time that they’ve received mail here, although he could have sworn that him and Kentarou have put down their home address for everything. 

The door squeaks as Shigeru steps inside and lets it close behind him. His nose scrunches uncomfortably at the sound. Yet another thing they need to fix tomorrow morning. No one should be forced to listen to something akin to fingernails on a chalkboard, especially not the two of them. Which also reminds him that he needs to call a repairman for the photocopier, because that wasn’t working when they tried to use it last week. 

Shigeru briefly walks through the office, his finger fiddling with the edge of the envelope as he goes from room to room. Nothing has changed since he was here last. All of the supplies are in place, the filing cabinet waiting to be fill. The only thing he does is adjust a picture frame that had shifted out of place, and it’s perfect.

To be fair, Kentarou said as much when he crawled out of bed earlier. Not that he had protested after Shigeru mentioned bringing back fresh coffee for the two of them. 

Nothing has changed except the letter. 

Shigeru stares at it as he leans against the front counter. His name on the front doesn’t give him any clues about its contents, and he gives in with a sigh and drags his finger beneath the seal. 

Only two pieces of paper are inside, filled with that same careful handwriting. Shigeru skims the first page, the words not really registering. For all intents and purposes, it is just a letter, only left here at the office, instead of his apartment. 

Then he moves onto the second page, his gaze dropping to the last line. 

Laughter builds in the back of his throat, bordering on hysterical. The sender left their name, although Shigeru nearly mistakes it for his own at first. This couldn’t be anything other than a joke or maybe someone discovered time travel while he wasn’t looking. But the smooth strokes stay the same, displaying his sister’s name for anyone to see.

.

Shigeru spends the rest of the day going over the letter, already grateful for the comfortable desk chair he splurged on for the office.

Most of it is just niceties. She spent an awful long time talking about his niece and nephew, about how they’re going to school in a couple years. Then about her husband, the soulmate their father approved so desperately of, moving up in the company. The lack of details surrounding that is an immediate relief. Shigeru has spent the last decade ignoring his father’s successes and failures. 

If it weren’t for the last paragraph, he would have thrown it out. There isn’t much to it, just her phone number, and an offer to meet up sometime and catch up. Kentarou would tell him to throw it out. That one attempt at contacting him doesn’t change the years spent pretending he doesn’t exist. The guilt probably just got the better of her, rather than her having a true interest in his life. 

That one offer is still more than Shigeru has ever gotten from his family. 

Other than the implication that his sister has been following his life well enough to know that him and Kentarou were opening their veterinary practice. 

“Shi-chan, you okay?” 

His head jerks up to meet Kentarou’s mother’s gaze. “Oh, yeah, of course. I’m just a bit distracted.” 

Hanako raises an eyebrow from across the table, but doesn’t say a word one way or another. Guilt follows the brief relief. Everything that has come out of her mouth all night has been sassy, her words seeking blood. 

Honestly, being trapped at a family dinner when all she clearly wants to do is talk to her friends must be difficult. If Shigeru was like that at her age though, he really needs to apologize to the Kyoutanis. They didn’t need to take in another teenager. That year or so must have been a lot rougher on them than he ever realized. 

Rather than point it out, Shigeru sticks his tongue out at her. 

Hanako quickly looks away, but this time because she’s smiling, not scowling. 

“Distracted? I didn’t think that would be an issue now,” Kentarou’s mother says, drawing out her words purposefully. “Don’t tell me that Ken-chan has started snoring in his old age.” 

“Kaachan!”

“That’s probably it.” A wicked smirk spreads across Hanako’s face as she leans back into the conversation. “I bet Shi-chan’s distracted because their neighbours keep filing noise complaints against them. It would make sense that he inherited it from you, Kaachan.” 

Kentarou’s mother gasps. “Me?” 

“Well, it wasn’t me,” his father interjects as he enters the dining room. 

Shigeru lets himself grin, the expression only growing as Kentarou groans and drops his head into his hands. That gives his mother enough time to wink at Shigeru before she stands up and wanders into the kitchen, her ban lifted now that dinner is finished. 

Getting up to help will only result in him being scolded. That and the temporary relief of having to cook for themselves lets Shigeru stay right where he is. Everything about their monthly dinner with the Kyoutani is amazing. It always has been, and likely always will be. 

He eases Kentarou’s hand away from his face and intertwines their fingers. “Don’t worry, I know you don’t snore. Most of the time.”

“Bastard,” Kentarou mutters beneath his breath.

That just makes Shigeru laugh and lean over. Kentarou gives in easily as he turns into the kiss, at least until Hanako pretends to gag as loudly and viscerally as she can. 

Hanako is much more of a sister to Shigeru than the one related to him. That little truth comes to him as easily as breathing, and he squeezes Kentarou’s hand when it does. Shigeru will always have this family to fall back on and support him, no matter if he meets with his sister. 

The rest of dinner passes in the same manner, all teasing jokes interwoven with exasperated groans and silent glowering. Shigeru appreciates it more than he can say. This past week at the practice has been everything he ever imagined it would be, has filled him with more joy than he can describe. 

And it would be better without that letter hanging over his head. Better if he could respond to Kentarou’s murmured worries about clients and their pets with anything more than a distracted hum. Better if he could smile easily when said clients come in, to assure them that Kentarou cares deeply about every animal that comes through their office. He wants to see this work, more than anything he’s ever wanted before.

The night air is cool when they step outside after dinner comes to a close. Shigeru can still feel the lingering pressure from where Kentarou’s mother squeezed his shoulder on the way out, a balm to his anxieties. 

A smile rests easily on his face, and they start their walk home in silence. The night will only get better once they get home. Even if they only crawl into bed and lie there for a good, long while, it will be good. For both of them. 

“You’re distracted.” 

Shigeru glances at Kentarou, pulled from his warm contentedness. “I am?” 

“I’m not fucking stupid, you know,” Kentarou says, his voice dropping. “You only act like this when something has happened.” 

“I-”

The words die in the back of his throat. Shigeru has tried lying to Kentarou a few times before, and each time it ended in failure. Kentarou has seen him at both his best and his worst, and that means something like lying is like waving a giant sign in front of him. 

Right now, Shigeru both loves him and hates him for that.

“What gave me away?” he asks, lightly. 

Kentarou stares, his eyebrows drawn in close. “A lot of things. You keep going silent all the fucking time. You told Kaachan that you’ve been distracted, but you won’t tell me that.” 

“Oh.” 

“You going to tell me what’s wrong or do I have to force it out of you?” 

A laugh breaks free of Shigeru, unasked for. “Force it out of me? Are you talking about when you waited for me to nearly assault you back in high school?” 

“I will if I have to,” Kentarou counters.

“I know, I know.” 

Shigeru falls silent as he turns the explanation over in his head. His intention had never been to keep it from Kentarou, but he hadn’t quite been able to make the words come out of his mouth. 

A lot of things work that way, actually. They’ve fought more times than Shigeru can count, just because one of them couldn’t gather the courage to say something. Usually, he gets caught up in how difficult explaining his feelings can be. Then Kentarou will be frustrated, because he can tell something is wrong but doesn’t know what. The important part is that they attempt to break out of that cycle. 

“My sister left me a letter at the office,” Shigeru confesses into the otherwise silent night. “The day before we opened.” 

Kentarou slowly exhales. “That was a whole damn week ago.” 

“Uh-huh.” 

“What did it say?” Kentarou asks, not missing a beat. 

Shigeru leans into him, their arms pressed purposely together. “Nothing exciting. Some details about her life, some thinly veiled regrets.” 

“She better feel fucking regretful.” 

Shigeru rolls his eyes. 

It is exactly what he expected Kentarou to say, but there is something about actually hearing the words that makes him smile. 

After all, him and Kentarou are soulmates. The person best suited for him in the entire world is a man who can be a bit too vulgar at times, who wouldn’t care if a person who hurt his family died alone in a hole. But also a man who cares so deeply that Shigeru almost doesn’t know what to do about it. A man who would support anything Shigeru wanted in a heartbeat. 

It goes beyond their Marks responding to each other, just as it should. 

“My knight in shining armour,” Shigeru croons, laughing when Kentarou scowls.

The expression fades quickly though, a determined frown taking its place. “What’re you going to do?” 

His gusto abruptly disappears. Kentarou always has a gift for cutting straight to the heart of something. 

“I… don’t know,” he says, slowly.

“Huh.” 

Shigeru frowns. “What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“Why does everything always to mean something with you?” Kentarou asks, but his exasperation fades quickly enough. “I guess it’s just… I don’t know, thought you’d brush her off or something.” 

“I want to.” 

The words hang between them for a long time, each step bringing them closer to home. Shigeru wishes it would come more quickly, even as he dreads its existence. This can’t be the end of their conversation, he knows that. But everything he wants to say would be so genuine that it would make them both uncomfortable. 

Shigeru takes in a deep breath, dramatic enough that Kentarou looks over, suspicious. Then he lets it go, the weight on his chest slowly easing away. Emotions are tricky and difficult and talking about them is something he hates, but he’ll do it for Kentarou. 

For Kentarou, he would do almost anything. 

“You know,” Shigeru starts, shifting to hook their pinky fingers together, “even if I do meet up with ther, it won’t change anything.”

Kentarou snorts and looks away to hide a smile. “Yeah?” 

“Definitely. You know, I’m tempted to meet up with her just to call her a bitch in front of a crowd and leave. Only she’d probably get off on the attention.” 

“Someone related to you getting off on attention? I’m really fucking surprised.” 

“It better surprise you, Ken-chan. After all, your soulmate is one of the most modest people in existence,” Shigeru snipes. 

The responding huff of laughter is far more satisfying than anything else would have been. It makes Shigeru grin, feeling far more accomplished than he should. Then it fades at the sight of their apartment building peeking through the trees ahead. This walk never seems to last as long as it should. 

“Really,” he says, quietly, “it doesn’t matter what she has to say. I have no intentions of ever leaving you, Kentarou.” 

Kentarou looks at him properly at long last. “Good.” 

“Good?” 

“Don’t think I have to point out that it goes both ways, dumbass.” 

Shigeru laughs loudly, the response gutting a wide grin on his face. 

When they get home, Shigeru pulls out the letter and sets it on the kitchen counter. They go over the message to his sister together, debating over just what to say.

.

Shigeru arrives early.

He doesn’t really know why, not when he can’t figure out if he even wants to be here, but he does. Kentarou believes it’s because the trains don’t line up properly, but only because Shigeru told him that before he left. 

Taking the next train would have only gotten him here a couple minutes late, at most. One message to his sister would have excused it. Instead, Shigeru stands at the end of her driveway. Still is the only way to describe this house with its perfectly maintained yard and expensive furnishings. Not the sort of house children should be living in, without any room for wear and tear.

It makes him feel a bit better about taking a month to plan this out properly. That could be attributed to the day it took them to respond to their messages, Shigeru purposely ignoring the blinking light on his phone until Kentarou made some pointed comment or another. 

Shigeru groans and starts down the driveway. The front door does not get any less intimidating as he gets closer, just as large and impressive as when he first arrive. He knocks, not giving himself the opportunity to get worked up about it.

Not for the second time. 

His weight shifts from one leg to another until a shout comes from somewhere inside. It’s too faint to make out the words, but the voice itself could only be his sister’s. Not unless another thirty year old woman is hanging around her house. 

The door finally opens, making the lump in the back of his throat grow. His sister stares back at him. Not the slightest bit of emotion shines through her face, but neither does Shigeru feel the urge to cry or make wild accusations at the sight of her. They both just stare and make no move one way or another. 

“I see you finally decided to come inside,” she says, turning on her heel. 

Shigeru takes the open door as a sign to come inside. “I - what?” 

“Do I have to explain to you that windows are transparent, Shigeru?” She glances over her shoulder. “Unless you thought you were invisible out there?” 

“Why the fuck would I have thought that?” 

His words have too much of Kentarou in them. Shigeru realizes that as his sister’s mouth falls flat, but he makes no move to apologize. The shock of swearing wore off on him a long time ago, and censoring himself is almost entirely pointless. 

Shigeru has no intentions of apologizing for how Kentarou has influenced him, even with something like this. It would go against too much of what he believes in. It would deny that Kentarou helped him change for the better. 

She continues on without a word. The world may as well shift beneath his feet, the lack of pictures on the walls and the few precisely positioned decorations compounding that as he follows after her. When they were children, his sister would have immediately scolded him. That was why she got so far, why their father favoured her over him. She never had a problem with throwing him under the bus. 

Or maybe she no longer has something to gain by proving that she’s better than him. Her appearance hasn’t changed much. She still stands her back painfully straight, the benefit of age and experience treating her well. There might be a few more lines around her eyes, a couple extra pounds on her hips, but that only makes her look more mature. 

Nothing has suggested that her life is anything less than perfect. Except Shigeru can’t place whether she’s actually satisfied with anything of this. 

“Do you want something to drink?” his sister offers as they step into the kitchen.

Shigeru pauses.

Their appliances easily put his own to shame, the island centered in the middle providing more than enough places for people to sit. It’s everything compared to his tiny apartment. She motions towards the island, then turns to the fridge and starts pulling out ingredients. 

“I’m fine,” he says, after a moment.

“You sure?” 

Shigeru nods and slowly sits down.

She shrugs, taking that as her cue to start pouring something for herself. Juice and club soda, from the sound of carbonated liquid filling the room. 

Coming up with something to say is more difficult than Shigeru assumed. Kentarou had asked once or twice over the past couple weeks what he intended to get out of this, but it felt so much simpler before he arrived. He would talk to his sister and maybe it would get ugly, but ugly was better than the alternative.

Shigeru no longer knows what the alternative is.

If he were to stand up and leave, his life would still be perfectly intact. Kentarou would still be at home, he would still go to dinner with Kentarou’s parents every month, and tease Hanako about stupid things. That is the life he wants.

“Why did you send me that letter?” he finally asks. 

His sister looks away. “Kaasan died last year.” 

Shigeru blinks.

The words are just words. For all that it registers, they could have been a comment about the weather or last night’s dinner.

Her gaze focuses back on him after a moment, clearly expecting something. But all Shigeru can think about is the last time he saw his mother, during his last year of high school. She had slid an envelope of money across the table, and her eyebrows had pinched together when he mentioned Kentarou.

Maybe if Shigeru planned on ever seeing her again, it would mean something to him. There had been pleasant memories with her as well, times when she tried to protect him from his father in her own way. But her disapproval of Kentarou had overshadowed all that. Dead or alive, his feelings haven’t really changed. He came to terms with that a long time ago now.

“That’s not why I tracked you down, though.” Her gaze stays on him, steady and unmoving. “It just made me think… about a lot of things.” 

Shigeru snorts. “Is that supposed to make sense? Kaasan” - his voice falters on the last syllable, but he pushes on - “dies and you think about how she kicked your little brother out of the house. Next you might put some serious thought into how shitty a person Otousan is.”

“I’m already well aware of how shitty a person Otousan is, thank you.” 

“And yet you still accepted everything he gave you,” he counters.

“And he never told you that I don’t actually have a Mark, did he?” 

Her mouth settles into a straight line as she waits for some sort of answer, unmoving. 

Shigeru is too busy gaping at her to respond properly. Not amount of frantically searching through his memories reveals some briefly forgotten reality. No offhand comments from one of their parents, no sign that her engagement when he was a teenager was anything other than what it seemed. 

“I figured,” his sister continues, when the silence gets to be too much. “Otherwise you would have come to me, instead of disappearing off the face of the earth back then.” 

“I was-” 

“It doesn't matter. Look, I would have known if you dropped out or if you got yourself into trouble. A friend worked at your high school, and I asked them to keep an eye on you,” she tells him, slowly lifting her drink to her mouth.

She’s wrong, Shigeru desperately wants to say, regardless of what she thinks. Being that close to their parents would have grated on him, right up until he left her place anyways. Maybe Kentarou wouldn’t have been there to catch him then. But he keeps silent, allowing her to hold onto that small lie. 

His sister tells him a convincing story. Each one of their father’s reactions falls in line with what he would expect. Arranging her marriage to the son of a major business partner who was in a similar situation is the least of what he could have done. Announcing that they were soulmates comes as a close second. 

The only reason Shigeru didn’t get stuck in the same situation is because he was forced to leave first. 

Tears sting the backs of his eyes as they walk back to the front door a couple hours later. There are too many different thoughts running through his head, all questions with no answers. And even then, with answers he doesn't truly want. 

“It was nice to see you, Shigeru,” his sister says, quietly. 

Shigeru manages a small smile as he looks over at her. “It was. Any chance you want to visit me next time? You could meet Kentarou.” 

“I’d like that.” 

Closing the door behind him doesn’t feel like the end of something. If anything, it is the start of something, however fragile and confusing it may be. 

Parts of what his sister told him doesn’t quite add up either, doesn’t fit into what he knows about her, about their parents, about himself. Giving someone the benefit of the doubt has never hurt before, though. She has no intentions of making him meet their father again, she said as much herself, and that smooths out a clearer road ahead of them. He’ll take everything she tells him with a grain of salt, of course, but… it’s nice knowing she cares, in her own way. 

Kentarou is already walking towards the front door when Shigeru gets back to their apartment, arms looping around his waist as door closes behind him. “You okay?” 

“Yeah,” Shigeru answers, softly, and leans into the hold. “I think so.” 

“What did…” 

“Just to talk. She wants to meet you.” 

“Yeah?” 

Shigeru tilts his head up, cupping Kentarou’s face in his hands. “Uh-huh. Want to tell me everything that happened at the practice today?” 

Kentarou smiles. It isn’t anything more than the smallest upturn of his lips, a bit awkward with his eyebrows scrunched together like always. If Shigeru didn’t know any better, he would say that Kentarou doesn’t quite know what to do with a smile, but he does and he treasures every moment of this carefully given smile.

.

“I hope you know that I look like an idiot,” Shigeru snaps. “And that I know exactly where we are.”

Kentarou snorts, squeezing his hand before he can reach up to fiddle with the blindfold again. “Stair.” 

A proper response is kicked out of him as his foot collides with the edge of a stair, sending him stumbling forwards. Kentarou jerks him back a bit to prevent him from landing on his face. Instead, it gives Shigeru just enough time to properly catch himself and he sends a scowl in Kentarou’s direction. 

No amount of walking will get him accustomed to wearing this stupid blindfold. Kentarou certainly hasn’t explained why he’s wearing it to begin with either, not beyond a handful of half-answers when they left the apartment. That must have been the better part of an hour ago now. Shigeru won’t get over Kentarou guiding him onto a train while he was wearing a blindfold anytime soon, not if it’s the last thing he does.

His second attempt at the stairs goes better than the first, at least. He hesitates a bit, his foot slowly coming down on firm ground. There are only a couple before they continue down some path or another.

“Wait here,” Kentarou says, abruptly. 

“Ken-chan-”

His voice fades off as Kentarou lets go of his hand, the warmth beside him disappearing. Shigeru groans in exasperation and stays put. The urge to pull off his blindfold is almost too strong to ignore now that Kentarou isn’t urging him not to, but that would betray that he doesn’t actually know where they are. 

The lack of contact only lasts for a few moments, anyways. Kentarou grabs both of his hands this time around, walking backwards as he leads Shigeru forwards.

He nearly trips over the edge of a doorframe, but the sound of his shoes squeaking on the floor distracts him before he can complain. The smell of sweat and rubber overwhelms him next, just as Kentarou gently lets go of him. His footsteps echo through the cavernous room once, then twice. 

“Can I take the blindfold off now?” Shigeru whispers.

“Uh-huh.” 

He reaches up to untie it, blinking as black spots fill his vision. Bright fluorescent lights fill Aoba Jousai’s gymnasium, always have and always will. 

They do not prepare him for the sight in front of him, the air abruptly leaving his lungs. 

Kentarou kneels, facing Shigeru with just one knee resting on the ground. His hair is a bit too long, the edges already a bit fuzzier than Kentarou likes. The obvious indent in his cheek could only be from him biting at it from the inside, so sharply contrasted with the leather jacket and jeans he left the house in. 

But Shigeru’s attention is not on Kentarou himself. The small box in his hands overshadows all of that. Two rings rest inside it, a clearer sign of Kentarou’s intentions than any words could ever be. Shigeru pulls in a deep, shaky breath as he stares at those rings, at Kentarou hesitating to propose to him in the middle of their high school gymnasium.

“You probably don’t remember,” Kentarou starts, his voice catching in the middle, “but today is the day we first met, back in first year.” 

Shigeru laughs, one hand covering his mouth as he blinks to clear his vision. 

“I almost didn’t realize who you were. Our year was filled with all these fucking idiots, and you were a bit like them back then, intent on proving yourself or some shit. You know, I never really understood that. And I really didn’t know what to do when I realized my Mark had reacted to you.” 

“I probably didn’t help,” Shigeru interjects before he can stop himself. 

Kentarou rolls his eyes, looking a bit more sure of himself. “No, but this is my speech, asshole, so don’t interrupt.” 

“Sorry.” 

“Yeah, right. And you were sorry when you shoved me against a wall that first time” - a smile flickers across his face when a laugh bursts out of Shigeru - “and the second time, actually. So fucking abusive.” 

“But every day, I went home and ranted to whoever would listen about this dumbass who cared too much about what our senpai though. Kaachan probably knew immediately, because she always just smiled and nodded, then asked me to invite you over. So, when you freaked out at practice, inviting you over was easy. Someone had to show you that you didn’t have to mold yourself to what other people thought you should be, and I wanted to be that person. For you, and only you.

“Then you actually came over and I started to give a crap. Or at least, I figured out that our Marks weren’t some jail sentence, because you weren’t as much of a dick as I thought you were. And wanting to be there for you never really changed after that. 

“That won’t ever change.” Kentarou isn’t smiling anymore, his jaw set and his eyes narrowed. “Which is why I stopped fucking waiting for you to ask and decided to do it myself. 

“Yahaba Shigeru, will you marry me?” 

Shigeru stares, his attempt to hold back his tears failing even as he blinks a bit more firmly. This past decade comes back to him in a rush, along the Marks that have defined every moment of that time. A yellow lab curls around his hip from his belly button to his spine, its head resting on its paws and filled in with vibrant colour. Lilies span from Kentarou’s upper thigh to the bottom of his ribs, looking more like a garden than a few individual flowers these days. 

Without those Marks, him and Kentarou still would have ended up together. Shigeru believes that without the smallest grain of doubt. It might have taken them longer to figure it out, but they would have. 

Everything always comes back to Kentarou for him. 

“Of course.” The words burst from Shigeru, incapable of remaining unsaid for even a second more, and he crosses the short distance between them. “Of course, you fucking idiot.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I... really can't believe this is finished, to be honest. It feels weird to have come this far, to have put so much of myself into this one fic. There are a few different copies of this on my computer, different chapter outlines in a notebook, a section of my closet doors covered in sticky notes about it. So, yeah, it's difficult to put the extent of my feelings about this fic into words, especially because, unlike conduct our hearts, my initial reason for writing wasn't just to put out some fluffy depiction of something I ship. Which is why I'm going to stop that line of thought there, as a lot of those reasons are quite personal. 
> 
> Hopefully, all of you who came this far in reading this enjoyed it. And really, thank you so much for reading it, whether you've been following it since I first posted or if you just started it now <3


End file.
